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I^LATED B7 WM 







CUSHING’S MANUAL. 

CONTAINING 


RULES of PROCEEDING and DEBATE 

OF 


DELIBERi^.TIVE ASSEMBLIES., 

4 Complete Guide for Instruction and Reference in all Matters pertaining to 
the Management of Public Meetings according to Parliamentary Usages. 

BY REVISED BY, , 

liUTBDEK S. CUSmKG. FRANCES P. SUIiEIVAN* 


The contents embrace the following subjects ; 


Addition of Propositions. 
Adjournment. 

Amendment.; 

Apology.*^ ^ 

. Assemoly, Deliberative. 
Assembling. 

Blanks, filling of. 

Chairman, preliminary elec* 
Committees. [tion of. 

Committee of the Whole. 
Commitment. 
Communications. 

Consent of the assembly. 
.Contested Elections. 
Crede'^ntials. - 
Debate. 

lOecorum, Breaches of. 
IlDisordeHy Conduct. . 
iDisorderly Words. 

[Division., 

< Elections and Returns. 

1 Expulsion. 

1 Floor. 

(Forms of Proceeding. 
[Incidental Questions, 
iilntroduction of Business. 
.Journal. 

^Judgment of an aggregate 
iUe on the Table. [body. 


List of members. 

Main Question. 

Majority. 

Members.'^ 

Membership. 

Motion. 

Naming a member. 

Officers. 

Order of a deliberative assem- 
Order of business. [bly. 
Order, rules of. 

Order, call to. 

Orders of the Day. 
Organization. 

Papers and Documents. 
Parliamentary Law. 
Parliamentary Rules. 
Petitions. 

Postponement. 

Power of assembly to eject 
Preamble. [strangers. 

Precedence. 

President. 

Presiding Officer. 

Previous Question. 

Privileged Questions. 
Proceedings, how set in mo* 
Punishment. [tion. 

Quarrel between members. 


Question. 

Quorum. 

Reading of Papers. 
RecepLon. 

Recommitment. 

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Recording Officer. 
Recurrence of Business. 
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Resolution. 

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Roll. 

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Secretary. 

Separation of propositions. 
Speakjng. 

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Speech, reading of, by mean 
Subsidiary Questions, [ber; 
Suspension of a rule. 
Transposition of proposition. 
Vice-President. 

Voting. 

Wjll of assembly. 
Withdrawal of motion. 

Yeas and Nays. 


In additio.n to Ij 


^;abp^>e this volume contains 


THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES 

and the 


DECEARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 


208 Pages. Bound in paper, 25 cents ; bound in doth, gilt back, 50 centSo 
©eat by mail on receipt of pricco One- and two-cent tslsm. 






AMEKICAN SERIES. 


THE ROYAL CHASE, 


AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE. 


BY 

amedee'a^ard. 


TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH 

BY 

WILLIAM HALE. 


Copyright, 1894, by M. J. Ivers & Co. 


NEW YORK ! 

M. J. IVERS & CO., PUBLISHERS, 
379 PEARL STREET. 

















CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER P-A.GE 

I. — A LAZZAHONE 5 

II. — SwoEDs Unsheathed 11 

III. — The Lord of the Manor 21 

IV. — The First Days 29 

V. — A Good Hermit 36 

VI. — The Tower of Mont Ventoux ... 44 

VII. — The Hermit’s History 51 

VIII.— Orestes and Pylades 59 

IX.— Soldiers of the Pope . . . . . 66 

X.— Sic Vos Non Vobis • 74 

XI.— Gipsies 80 

XII.— The Eegiment of the Crown .... 87 

XIII. — The King’s Volunteers 93 

XIV. — A Prince of the Blood 99 

XV.— Heur Et Malheur 107 

XVI.— Queens of Hearts 116 

XVII.— The Favorite 123 

XVIII.— The King’s Highway 131 

XIX.— The Nephew of a Great Man . . .137 

XX.— Fro3i Nevers to Paris 144 

XXI.— The Court of the King 149 

XXII.— The Woods of Marly 157 

XXIII.— An Old Acquaintance . . 

XXIV.— Two Post-Chaises 107 

XXV.— The Bivouac - . . . . • .173 


( 3 ) 


4 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER FAOB 

XXVI. —The Broc D’ Argent 178 

XXVII.— The Two Merchants 184 

XXVIII.— The Attack 188 

XXIX.— The Ebony Casket 197 

XXX.— All or Nothing 205. 

XXXI.— The Glass of Water 213 

XXXII.— The Red House 217 

XXXIII.— Cydalise’s Diplomacy .... 220 

XXXIV.— The Mask Falls . . . . . . 228 

XXXV.— Two Against One 233 

XXXVI. — Man Proposes and Woman Disposes . 237 

XXXVII. — A Treaty of Alliance .... 246 

XXXVIII.— The Rue De L’Arbalete |. . . . 253 

XXXIX.— The Palais Royal 257 

XL. — The Cours-La-Reine ..... 264 

XLI.— A Ghost 272 

XLII. — A Death Blow 276 

XLIII.— The Etoile Des Faunes .... 280 

XLIV. — One or the Other . . . . . 284 

XLV.— The Gordian Knot 287 

XLVI.— The Blue Boy 293 

XLVII. — A Tragedy in Action .... 297 

XLVIII. — A Little Ashes 302 

XLIX.— The King’s Seal 311 

L. — The Two Mistresses 313 

LI. — The Secret Mission 317 

LII. — The Tiger’s Awakening .... 321 

LIII.— The Fifth Act 326 

LIV. — Too Late 330 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


CHAPTER I. 

A LAZZARONE. 

One autumn day, towards noon— it was at the beginning 
of the month of September, 1706— two gentlemen engaged 
in conversation were following the immense curve which 
the French army, under the command of the Due de la 
Feuillade, traced around Turin. 

The city was invested on all sides, but it did not seem to 
find itself in any way inconvenienced by the fact. There 
was to be seen neither breach in the ramparts nor smoking 
ruins— in short nothing which denoted that the capital of 
the Duke. of Savoy had the least desire of surrendering. 

The cannons extended their gaping throats through the 
embrasures ; the bayonets of the sentinels shone above the 
esplanades; the noise of drums and trumpets was to be 
heard, and from time to time a flash of light, followed by a 
heavy detonation, indicated that the garrison of Turin kept 
faithful watch. 

The besiegers on their part conscientiously replied to 
every discharge ; the balls had no sooner arrived than they 
were returned ; they carried off now and then some gabions, 
and, at rare intervals, a man or two, and that was all. 

The French army, it must be said, formed around Turin 
the strangest figure imaginable. Never had any siege 
been so badly conducted. No progress was made and no 
one knew how to make any. Orders were badly given and 
still haore badly executed; they had not known how to 
foresee anything and they did not know how to prevent 
anything. Things went almost as chance willed, and never 
had chance conducted them so badly. No battery was in 
its place, no post was well guarded. 

The lines of circumvallation were too vast and the troops 
too small in number. The service exhausted the soldier 
without any profit. The Due de la Feuillade, who had had 
the direction of the siege before the arrival in Italy of the 
Due d ’Orleans, had fatigued the cavalry and worried the 
infantry by his mad races after the astute and brave Duke 
of Savoy, who only laughed at him. Tliere were some days 
on which the cannonading sounded fearfully loud; when 
evening came, it was known almost accurately how much 

( 5 ) 


6 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


powder had been burnt and how many men lost, but it was 
still better known that nothing had been gained by all this 
uproar. Artillery men, foot-soldiers, cavaliers — everybody 
was discouraged. The best things were not done ; the worst 
were undertaken ; the time passed in useless and fatiguing 
tasks,— -one would have said that the Spirit of Error pre- 
sided over the operations of the siege. It had been going 
on for two months, and no one foresaw when it would end. 

That joyous movement which indicates the valor and 
good hope of troops had disappeared from the camp : no 
songs, no games. The men in the trench worked lazily, 
and the cannoneers served their pieces without ardor and 
only because discipline forced them to do so. Each one 
had the conviction that every undertaking wmuld turn out 
badly, and nevertheless they were weary of indecision and 
apath5^ 

Among all the soldiers whom the two gentlemen encoun- 
tered upon their passage, some slept, others mounted guard 
sadly, none showed that good humored activity which is 
the indication of hope, if not of success. When a ball 
passed ricocheting over the soil, the sentinels followed its 
irregular bounds with the eyes, and silently took up their 
march, after its motions had ceased. It might have been 
said that Turkish fanaticism benumbed the.aVm.y. 

Of the two gentlemen promenading on the edge of the 
camp, the oldest might be thirty years of age ; the other twen- 
ty-four or twenty-five at the most. Both had in their man- 
ners that ease, that grace and that dignity which formed a 
part, in some fashion, of the privileges of the nobility. The 
youngest looked on all sides like a nevvcomer, and did not 
inconvenience himself to hide a surprise of which the ex- 
pressions became more and more keen in proportion as he 
advanced in his promenade. The other smiled. 

There was some indignation in the surprise of the younger, 
and sadness and irony in the smile of the elder. You would 
have said the smile of a man who, after having probed 
things to their bottoms, has taken his part of the evil he 
had found there. 

The latter had in every respect the air of a great lord, 
calm, grave, imposing, look proud and firm, gesture noble’ 
language easy and sober; tiie other, like a young cock who 
challenges at sunrise, spoke in an impetuous voice and 
made his spurs jingle by striking his heels upon the gravel. 

“ To make thirty leagues at a headlong pace over abomi- 
nable roads,” said he, “to find things in so sad a state! 
Vive Dieu! there was no necessity for my making haste 
and though I had crawled like the turtle of that good La 
Fontaine I would still have arrived too soon! At Marly 
nothing wms talked about except your prowess, they spoke 
only of squadrons destroyed, regiments cut to pieces, 
counter-scarps carried, and bastions overthrown,” 

“Only dispatches, my dear,” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


7 - 


“Well! my dear Duke, permit me to tell you that your 
dispatches are written in a marvelous style. I have seen 
at our Prime Minister’s some samples of them which would 
do honor to the great men of the Academy. What epithets 
and what ilowers of rhetoric! It is truly miraculous that 
similar phrases have not set fire to the paper. In those 
dispatches one saw Turin in ashes and Piedmont in the 
dust.” 

“And you think, I imagine, that Piedmont and Turin 
seem to be in pretty good condition in spite of all this.” 

“But it seems to me that Count Thaun, who is in com- 
mand of the place, would be very difficult to please if he 
did not show himself satisfied with our proceedings.” 

While the gentleman Avas still speaking, two balls passed 
at an interval of twenty seconds from each other; the first 
overthrew the pole of a tent whose canvas sheltered five 
or six sleepers, Avho woke up in surprise ; the second cut in 
two a sentinel. 

There was no burst of laughter at first, nor complaint 
afterward ; the tent was set up again and the dead sentinel 
was thrown into a hole dug in the ground by a bomb, and 
those who had woke up went to sleep again. 

“ Eh ! ” continued the gentleman, “ it appears that when 
one speaks of M. de Thaun, one is sure to receive news of 
him! When I started out on my journey, I was afraid of 
finding the city taken by assault on my arrival; I am 
afraid at present that the city may take the camp and that 
the garrison may pass our army at the edge of the sword.” 

“ Ah! it might indeed happen ! ” replied the duke. 

“ Do you speak seriously and do you believe that the thing 
is possible ? ” his interlocutor quickly exclaimed. 

“ In principle, my dear count, everything is possible and 
very often above all the things which appear least so. 
TJierefore it is probable, and, if I did not wish to have the 
air of slandering our chiefs, I would add that it is in- 
evitable.” 

“You stupefy me!” continued the count looking the 
duke in the face. “The Duke of Orleans has taken com- 
mand of the army, jmu are Monsieur de Biparfonds, and it 
is you who spread such prophecies V ” 

“Myself.” 

“Come,” continued the count, “for two months you have 
been absent from court, and iu two months many things 
may come to pass. The friendship which existed between 
the Duke of Orleans and yourself— does it still exist ? ” 

“It does.” _ „ 

“ Mon seigneur has not, which I know, lost command oi 
the army ? ” 

“Not at all.” , 

“ If then the Duke of Orleans has the supreme command, 
it is his right to give orders ? ” 

“ Undoubtedly.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


• 8 

“ We must theu attribute to the Duke of Oiieaus all tli# 
faults whose indications are before the eyes, and render 
him responsible for all the imprudences which have been, 
are being, and will be committed ? ” 

“ Your reasoning is logical,” he said. 

“ You agree to it ? ” 

“ Certainly, but it is not exact.” 

“ Ah ! there is a hut ? ” 

“In what affair of the world is there not? ” 

“ Well ! let us have your hui.” 

At the moment when M. de Eiparfonds was going to 
reply, a group of cavaliers appeared in the midst of a 
sunken road which the two gentlemen had just entered 
upon. At the head of this group rode two general officers 
all covered over with embroidery. 

Nothing so unlike as these two gentlemen who appeared 
equal in rights, if not in grade. 

The one, very small and active, was much agitated while 
addressing himself to his companion, who listened to him 
with a smiling air; he lowered himself and raised himself 
up again with an extreme petulance ; but, whatever he did, 
the smallness of his stature did not permit him to appear 
large, and one could scarcely see his head rise between the 
ears of the great horse on which he was perched. Of all 
his person, that which was most apparent, was the white 
plumed hat with which it was topped and the heavy boots 
with great spurs which imprisoned his short legs. 

The other, large, well formed, superb in his bearing, had 
a physiognomy so spiritual and so noble, that one did not 
think of remarking his ugliness — which was extreme. He 
was one of those men who seduce before speaking, and the 
only thing they have to do afterward is to open their mouths 
in order to attract those whom they have charmed. He 
showed himself very attentive to all his companion said, 
and inclined his head at every moment in sign of appro- 
bation. 

The drums beat, and the soldiers took up their arms on 
the passage of those two cavaliers who saluted turn by 
turn, the small one vivaciously, the other with a charming 
dignity. 

“You see,” sa4d the smaller of the two cavaliers, “we 
are well enough in our lines, let us remain here! Mon- 
seigneur pretends that Prince Eugene will pass the Douro; 
I do not believe it. And you ? ” 

“ I believe as you believe.” 

The smaller saluted with a charming air. 

The other continued : 

“It is to you to give orders and it is our privilege to 
execute them. It is not every day that we are so fortunate 
as to have a captain like you at the head of an army. 
What you do will be well done.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


9 


Th© smaller saluted his companion again, and smiled 
radiantly. 

The Due de Riparfonds and his friend left the road which 
the company were following, returned the salute of the two 
general officers and continued their promenade. 

When they were thirty steps away, the Due de Riparfonds 
stopped his friend, and designating to him the two cavaliers 
who were slowly moving away, said : 

“ Do you wish to know the conjunction which does away 
with your logic ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“Well! put the conjunction in the plural; there are two 
of them ; they have just passed on horseback.” 

“ What 1 Marshal Marchin and the Due de la Feuillade ? ” 

“ Precisely.” 

“I do not understand.” exclaimed the Count. 

“It is very clear, however; the Duke of Orleans has the 
command, but he has no authority.” 

“And the orders which he gives are not executed.” 

“Exactly.” 

“ Believe then after this in the bulletins! ” continued the 
Count bursting with laughter. 

“ It is very gay, but it is very sad,” continued the Duke. 
“ Ah ! His Majesty the King would certainly be delighted, 
if he could see, from the depths of the apartments where 
Madame de Maintenon keeps him shut up, how the troops 
are governed. We write magnificent dispatches, but do no 
work. Have you remarked how that great Duke, of whom 
the Devil and M. de Chamillart have made a Lieutenant 
General, listens to the little Marshal and in what fashion he 
handles him ? He listens to him, but he leads him.” 

“ It is then M. de la Feuillade who governs here ? ” 

“Himself, and believe me, my dear Count, that he con- 
ducts things marvelously. We have ridden to death a 
thousand horses running after M. de Savoy who roves the 
country, exhausts the army in useless detachments, and 
repulses us a hundred times from paltry towns which are 
not worth the men they have cost us.” 

“And the Duke of Orleans ? ” 

“ He has seen the evil, has combated it, but has not con- 
quered it. M. de la Feuillade is the son-in-law and favorite 
of the Prime Minister; Marshal Marchin is a passable 
general, but is a dull courtier, and he is afraid of the Prime 
Minister. Do you understand ? ” 

“Very well. And, in the meantime, we have Turin on 
one hand and Prince Eugene oh the other.” 

“That is to say a place fortified by Vauban on one side, 
and the best general of the Empire on the other. It is 
already too much by half.” 

While talking, the two gentlemen had taken a path which 
tiirnod aside from the French lines into the country. Tliis 
path, narrow and stony, was the only dry part ‘of a field 


10 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


which the raios had soaked ; some trees shaded it here and 
‘there, and in certain places it was carpeted by verdure fine 
and smooth as velvet. 

Following the path, you came to an elevation crowned 
Vv’ith aspens and lindens, whence the view extended into the 
distance. The two promenaders were not more than a 
hundred steps from the elevation, when turning around a 
bush they encountered a soldier lying asleep across the 
path, his head in the shade and his feet in the sun. 

A. fold of turfy ground served him for pillow, and his legs, 
indolently stretched out, reposed in the warm grass. A 
great cloak of green cloth enveloped him so well, that it 
was impossible to recognize, by the inspection of his uni- 
form, to what corps he belonged; the end of the sword pro- 
jected from the cloak, and one could see the heavy and 
strong handle, in which the nervous hand of the soldier 
was passed as if he wished to be ready for the combat at 
the moment of awakening. 

His hat, ornamented with a red plume, had rolled upon the 
turf, leaving the soldier’s liead uncovered : a delicate black 
mustache shaded his upper lip, and, though his closed eyes 
did not light up his countenance with that radiance which 
comes from the soul and which gives to the features their 
life and their character, that sleeping visage charmed by 
its expression of youth, audacity, and pride. 

The sleeper might well be twenty-three or twenty-four 
5^ears of age, though his weary and tanned features did not 
permit his age to be determined. His cloak ])ierced in 
divers places and worn out everywhere, his frayed boots, 
his faded hat and plume, gave a pitiful idea of the fortune 
of that military lazzarone, but while waiting for wealth to 
come, he slept with closed fists. 

Thanks to his position, the path was altogether bh-tcked 
up; it was necessary to cross with a bound his body ex- 
tended like a square or to take to the mud— and to this the 
dignity of the Due de Eiparfonds and his companion would 
not stoop. 

The youngest of the two pushed the sleeper with the end 
of a switch which he had in the hand, and, seeing that he 
did not awaken, tickled his mustache lightly with it. 

This time the soldier rubbed his nose as if a fly had 
touched it in passing, opened his eyes soon after, looked at 
the two gentlemen and kept as still as a log. 

“Hey! scoundrel!” exclaimed the promenader with the 
switch, “ get away from here promptly! ” 

This time the lazzarone half rose up, and, his head in his 
liands, his elbows on the turf, complacently examined his 
interlocutor from head to foot. 

“Hey! rascal! have you heard me ? ” continued the gen- 
tleman. 

“ Perfectly ! ” replied the soldier who curled his mustache 
with the air of a captain. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


11 


“ Well, then, make haste! ” 

“ It is to me then that you speak ? ” 

“ I believe, God pardon me, that this rascal acts the im- 
pertinent,” said the gentleman turning towards the Due de 
Kiparfonds. “Come! decamp quickly or you are going to 
force me to chastise jmu.” 

“ It would truly be the first time the thing happened to 
me.” 

“ It will not at least be the last.” 

“ Ah! you think so ? ” 

“ I am sure of it. — Hold, my dear Duke, pass me your 
cane. Some strokes of the stick will teach politeness to 
this idler.” 

The blood mounted to the soldier’s countenance. 

“ Ah! ” he exclaimed, “ it is thus that they talk here! you 
speak of strokes of the cane, my fine gentleman ! what do 
you say to strokes of the sword ? ” 

“ Faith, ’tis very amusing,” said the gentleman bursting 
with laughter. 

But more nimble than a tiger, the soldier leaped upon his 
feet, and, throwing back his cloak, head naked, right hand 
upon the guard of his long rapier, forehead high, eye 
sparkling, he saluted with all the grace of some grand 
seigneur of the court of Versailles. 

“Gentlemen,” said he in a firm and sonorous voice, “I 
have the honor to call myself Hector Dieudonne de Chavail- 
les. Marquis de Chavailles. 


CHAPTER II. 

SWORDS UNSHEATHED. 

At the name which the soldier had just pronounced, the 
Due de Riparfonds, who till then had remained a very tran- 
quil spectator of the debate, made a step forward. 

“Yoii have said, I believe. Hector Dieudonne de Cha- 
vailles, Marquis de Chavailles ? ” 

“Precisely.” 

The Duke bowed. 

“I am named Guy Philippe Henri de Riparfonds, Due de 
Riparfonds,” he then said. 

In his turn the soldier bowed. 

“Sowell,” continued he, “that I have the honor to be 
your cousin.” 

Obeying the laws of the refined politeness of the time, 
the two young people saluted each other again. 

Thoroughly stupefied by this unexpected recognition, the 
gentlema!! who had wished to play with the baton crossed 
his arms and did not say a word. 

“ I did not expect, I acknowledge,” added M. de Ripar- 
fonds, “ to have the pleasure of meeting one of my relatives 
in such a place — ” 


12 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


And as he hesitated to continue, Hector smilingly added: 

“ And in a similar outfit.” 

“Well! I will not deny it,” pursued the Duke, “ and as I 
am accustomed to frankly say what I think, I will not con- 
ceal from you that before recognizing you publicly for one 
of my relations, I desire proofs of it.” 

“ You mean to say that you doubt my word ? ” 

“Monsieur, I have always held the things which touch 
the dignity of my house as in every respect serious. I bear 
its name proudly and do not wish in anywise to compromise 
it. Whoever you may be, you appear a gallant man, and, 
far from offending you, my just susceptibility ought to 
prove to you the esteem in which I hold those of my 
family.” 

“ And then,” exclaimed the gentleman wfith the switch, 
“ we live in a time and in a land where all sorts of people 
rove the country, giving themselves out for wdiat they are 
not and taking that which is not their due. Have I not en- 
countered the other day, at Chamber}^, a conceited fellow' 
wdio styled himself prince of I know not what, and wdiom I 
have been forced to horseAvhip to make him confess that he 
and his race had been lackeys for ten generations ? ” 

The soldier looked at the gentleman and turned toward 
the Duke. 

“I am too proud myself,” he continued, “to not under- 
stand pride and excuse it. You wish some proofs. Monsieur 
le Due ? You are going to have them. And firstly, let me 
recall to you that a Kiparfonds married my grandfather at 
the same time that a Chavaiiles espoused a Eiparfonds. If 
you are, as I have reason to suppose, the grandson of the 
one, being mj^self the grandson of the other, we are cousins 
— german. Our fathers have met at Vienne in Dauphiny, 
some dozen years ago, and if you recollect a little man 
three feet and a half high, who just missed breaking his 
skull against a w'all one day—” 

“Certainly,” interrupted the Duke, “ I recollect it-so well 
that I still think I see the deep gash which he made in his 
head, near the forehead. A little more and he would have 
then departed this life altogether.” 

“ Look then. Monsieur,” continued the soldier putting 
aside a buckle of hair which veiled a long cicatrice. 

“Enough, Monsieur le Marquis,” replied the Duke; 
“ since you speak, my recollections return in a crowd ; the 
play of your physiognomy, your voice, your looks, every- 
thing recalls to me a past, which I have gravely wronged 
in too promptly forgetting; wdll you pardon me this ne- 
glect ? ” 

With these words, the Duke opened his arms to the Mar- 
quis de Chavaiiles, w'ho threw himself into them, and the 
two young people exhanged an embrace, according to the 
fashion of the time. 

“Now, my cousin,” continued the Duke, “ permit me to 


THE nuEAL CHASE. 


13 


present you to my friend, Comte Paul Emile de Fourque- 
vaux.” 

The two gentlemen saluted each other courteously. 

“It seems to me,” M. de Fourquevaux afterward said, 
“ that I have just now had the awkwardness to treat you in 
a somewhat haughty fashion.” 

“In fact, I think so myself.” 

“ Will you prove to me. Monsieur le Marquis, that you 
entertain no ill will, by deigning to fence a little, and for 
two minutes only, with that formidable sword of which 
your hand still caresses the guard ! ” 

“ It was exactly the proposition I was going to make 
you.” 

“ Do you really mean it, gentlemen ? ” cried the Duke. 

“And why not!” replied Hector, “ Monsieur le Comte 
has spoken to me a little unceremoniously, I have had the 
pleasure of replying to him in the same tone ; the acquaint- 
ance is half made, it is necessary to finish it.” 

“ I have the keenest desire to do so,” said Paul Emile de 
Fourquevaux. “ I experience for your cousin, my dear 
Duke, a truly surprising sympathy; a sword thrust will put 
the seal to it.” 

“ What do you fear ? ” added the Marquis. “ The edicts 
of our gracious kings ? — The tribunal of Marshals ?— The 
Bastille ?— Permit me to observe to you that we are more 
than a hundred leagues from Marly, that no one will ever 
know anything about it, and that things are advancing too 
smoothly to be arrested.” 

“ Parbleu ! dear Duke, you would really be more ferocious 
than a Hyrcanian tiger, if you prevented me from tasting 
the only joy which can put a term to the monotony of my 
existence? I have been in the^ army two days, and know 
you that for forty-eight hours I have been horribly bored ! 
an occasion presents itself to enliven me a little, and you 
pretend to rob me of it! but I would rather be killed ten 
times than not to fight once.” 

“ Come, my dear cousin,” Hector spoke up, “ let yourself 
be moved, and permit us to slash each other a little.” 

The sangfroid of the Marquis de Chavailles and the comic 
indignation of the Comte de Fourquevaux made the Duke 
smile. 

“Since you insist on it, let us march,” he said. 

They gained the hillock where the aspens and lindens 
grew, and stopped on a green sward, which a curtain of 
briers hid from the sight of passers-by. 

“ Here is a plage wonderfully suited to this kind of recrea- 
tion,” said Paul Emile who was filled with joy. 

And, drawing his sword, he began to fence against a tree. 

Hector threw his great green cloak upon the grass and 
unsheatljed. 

Paul Emile came to him ; but as he was going to fall on 
guard, the Marquis delayed his preparations. 


14 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“ Permit me,” he said. 

And, advancing toward the Count, he begged him to lend 
him his sword for a moment. 

“By my faith!” he exclaimed, after he had placed it 
alongside' his rapier, “your sword lacks four or five inches 
of being as long as mine. See! it is a plaything.” 

“ What matters it! ” 

“ Let us exchange, then ! ” 

“Ah! Monsieur le Marquis, you desire then that we 
should begin again after we have finished ? It is one of 
those propositions which are almost an offense.” 

“ I imagine you would have made it in my place— but 
here is a simple means of conciliating everything. Let M. 
le Due de Riparfonds lend me his sword, and we will be on 
equal terms.” 

“ It will appear very short to you, accustomed as you are 
to the blade of the German -reiters,” replied the Count. 

“ Bah ! it will still be long enough to return what you give 
me.” 

The Due de Eiparfonds drew his sword from the scabbard 
and presented it to the Marquis de Chavailles who, having 
saluted his adversary, crossed blades. 

“Finally!” exclaimed Paul Emile, “it will not be said 
that one is forever bored in the country of M. de Savoy.” 

The gayest of smiles wreathed his lips, and his eyes shone 
like fire. 

At the end of ten seconds, it appeared to the Due de 
Eiparfonds that his cousin the soldier handled the sword 
like the best provost of Versailles. He constantly main- 
tained the point at the body and his wrist seemed of 
iron. 

“ Here is a relative,” said the Duke to himself, “who is 
going to cost me a friend.” 

The Count did not appear to suspect this superiority and 
pressed M. de Chavailles like a madman. 

At the fifth or sixth pass, M. de Fourquevaux having at- 
tacked him on his arm, the Marquis retaliated by such a 
rapid thrust, that the sword pierced the shoulder of the 
Count before he could resume his guard. 

Some drops of blood stained the gentleman’s coat, and 
the Marquis left off. 

M. de Fourquevaux ran to him. 

“ Your hand. Monsieur, I pray you, and count me your 
friend! ” he exclaimed. 

“ With all my heart,” replied Hector. 

“Ah! dear Marquis, suffer me to embrace you. What a 
fine thrust! It is only a scratch, but it only depended on you 
to have seen the sword sticking out at the back! Oh! do 
not deny it! — Have I not seen how the thrust was directed ? 
A ball goes not more quickly! ” 

“ What would you, dear Count, one does the best one 
can ! ” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


15 


“ Diable ! you can do too much. You will teach me that 
thrust!” 

“ Oh 1 it is very simple.” 

“I have no doubt of its simplicity, but I have still less 
doubt of its excellence.— Have you remarked it, my dear 
Guy?” continued Paul Emile addressing himself to the 
Duke. “The attack was en quar'te; Monsieur le Marquis 
has barely turned his hand, and I have felt the point before 
having seen the sword. — Hold I the knot of ribbons which 
Cydalise gave me on my departure from Paris is all pierced 
by it.” 

“It is certain,” said M. de Biparfonds, “that you have a 
sure and rapid hand, my dear cousin.” 

“There is no great merit in that,” replied M. de Cha- 
vailles ; “ when one knows a little thing, itls still necessary 
to know it well.” 

“I am only a scholar then! ” exclaimed M. de Fourque- 
vaux, his eyes fixed on M. de Chavailles and his fingers 
upon the knot of jonquil ribbon with red spots upon it. 

“A scholar such as there are few masters.” 

“ Ah! ” said M. de Biparfonds at this reply. 

“ But,” continued M. de Chavailles smilingly, “you at- 
tack too quickly and too often to know how to defend your- 
self.” 

Saying this, he picked up his rapier and placed it in his 
scabbard ; the two gentlemen imitated him and all of them 
took their way to the camp. 

“Has not our escapade given you an appetite, gentle- 
man ? ” said Hector when they had descended the hillock. 

“Eh!” said Paul Emile, “"if we were at Versailles, it 
seems to me that a good dinner would never have better 
guests to partake of it; but in a country like this, what 
satisfaction can honest men enjoy at table.” 

“Well! gentlemen, if you permit it, I will offer to share 
m}’^ allowance with you ; a soldier’s allowance, I forewarn 
you,” added Hector. 

“Hum!” said M. de Biparfonds, throwing upon his 
cousin a look whose significance could not escape him. 

“ You judge of the cuisine by the coat,” continued M. de 
Chavailles, “and you do not conceive of it, acknowledge, a 
marvelous idea.” 

“Bah!” interrupted M. de Fourquevaux, “let us try it 
at any rate. At the manner things go before Turin, I imag- 
ine that there ought to be no great difference between the 
table of a duke and peer, and the table of a soldier.” 

“ I see that you have still upon your heart my supper of 
yesterday evening,” replied M. de Biparfonds. 

“Bather so.” 

“ Well! I am afraid that you may not keep mine so long 
a time,” added M. de Chavailles. 

“By the grace of God! ” exclaimed M. de Fourquevaux 
philosophically. 


16 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


M. de Chavailles took upon the right a path which led to 
that part of the camp that extended along the Po. It was 
the quarter of the troops belonging to the brigade of M. le 
Guerchois. The same spectacle which the Comte de Four- 
quevaux had remarked everywhere M. de Kiparfonds had 
conducted him, he found again in the quarter of the Vieille- 
Marine ; ennui, depression, silence. Only on the river shore 
one saw some soldiers armed with long poles, who watched 
like fishers in search of fish, line in hand. Sometimes one 
of them, advancing from rock to rock even into the bed of 
the river, sought to bring back to the shore an inert object 
which followed the course of the water. 

“What are those sentinels doing?” asked M. de Four- 
quevaux. 

“ They fish for powder,” replied M. de Chavailles. 

The Count interrogated him with a look. 

“It is very simple,” continued the soldier; “the enemy, 
who are masters of the course of the Po, confide to the river 
leather pouches full of powder which the water carries to 
M. de Thaun. M. de Thaun thinks he has not enough of 
them, we think that he has too many, and to these two con- 
trary opinions we owe the fishing experiment.” 

“So that the effect of the second destroys the effect of the 
first.” 

“Oh! there is room for much to be said with regard to 
that,” said the soldier smiling. 

“ Tell me something more about it.” 

“Come and see, that will be the shortest way.” 

At the moment they approached the shores of the river, 
one of the sentinels, leaping from stone to stone, advanced 
into the middle of the water which ran lazily along. Armed 
with his fiexible pole, the soldier sought to push tow^ard the 
shore a pouch which rolled heavily, showing its great 
humid stomach on the surface of the Po. The pole touched 
the ground, the pouch turned over and the water chased it 
forward. 

Three times the soldier waited for the pouch at the pas- 
sage, and three times the pouch disappeared plunging. 

At the fourth useless attempt, the exasperated fisher 
launched his pole against the pouch which plunged at the 
shock of the wood, and pouch and pole descended the river 
together. j 

The soldier made a step forward like a man who has 
suddenly taken his part, and he was going to enter the 
stream when the idea struck him to first plunge his hand 
therein. 

“ My faith, no—” said he, shaking it, “the water is too 
cold.” 

And very tranquilly he regained the shore, taking good 
care not to get his feet wet. 

“Do you understand now ? ” M. de Chavailles asked the 
Count. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


17 


“ Very well ! Here are some droll fellows who find it more 
commodious to receive bullets than to contract colds.” 

The three gentlemen made a hundred steps more, and 
stopped on the edge of a vineyard, close to which rose up 
some rows of tents. 

“ This is where camps the Eegiment of the Crown, to 
which I belong,” said M. de Chavailles ; “ that tent which 
you see down there on the left, close to an almond-tree, is 
mine. We have the inn, now let us seek the cook.” 

They made some steps in the direction of the almond- 
tree, and M. de Chavailles, using his two hands as a speak- 
ing-trumpet, called with all his strength : 

“ Hey ! Coq-Heron ! Coq-Heron ! ” 

At the second appeal, a head emerged from a neighboring 
tent, a lean and bony body followed the head, long legs re- 
sembling stilts followed the body, and a great devil of a 
soldier whose profile one always believed one saw even 
when looking him in the front, rising up on his feet, gravely 
replied : • 

“Eh! Monsieur de Marquis, it is not worth while to cry 
so loud when people are so close! ” 

“That’s all right, my brave fellow,” said M. de Chavailles 
approaching Coq-Heron ; and, striking him softly on the 
arm, he added : 

“ Here are two gentlemen whom I present to you ; I have 
not known them very long, and one of them has only been 
in camp two days, but I look on them both as old friends : 
M. de Kiparfonds is related to me and I have fought with 
M. de Fourquevaux.” 

Coq-Heron majestically saluted the two gentlemen. 

“Now that you know whom you are dealing with,” con- 
tinued M. de Chavailles, “I ought to warn you, my old 
comrade, that I have invited these two gentlemen to din- 
ner, and we are all three very hungry.” 

“ Ah ! you are very hungry ! ” 

“ A devil of an appetite — you understand, the open air, 
the exercise, and the hour aiding—” 

“It is for the best; but with what do you pretend to 
furnish your friends’ dinner?” 

“Apparently, with what you will give them.” 

“ And what shall I give them, if I have nothing! ” 

“ Nothing at all ? ” 

“ Absolutely nothing.” 

“That is very little.” 

“The devil! it is even less,” murmured M. de Fourque- 
vaux. 

“ It is your fault also,” continued Coq-Heron, “you never 
warn people. One would say, to hear you, that you have 
only to command to be served, as at an inn-keeper’s. And 
yet you have been under the walls of Turin for nearly six 
weeks — an abominable place wdiere there is nothing to put 
between the teeth ! You have had. Monsieur le Marquis, a 


18 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


triumphant idea— three guests for a small piece of bread 
and two onions — ” 

“ I have thought of that, but a little late, I acknowledge.” 

“ Yes, appetite comes at a gallop and reflection at a 
walk—” 

“ Finally, my poor old fellow, the thing is done, and my 
guests will content themselves with what there is — pro- 
vided that the small piece of bread is very large and the 
two onions about the size of a pumpkin, everything wdll be 
all right. Let us be served! ” 

“Ah there! Monsieur le Marquis,” exclaimed Coq-H6ron 
in an indignant voice, “ do you think me a man to offer a 
feast like that to the worthy gentlemen who are your friends ? 
For whom do you take me, if you please? A line dish — 
bread and onions! It’s a dish your father’s dogs would not 
have had.” 

“What would you, my friend, since there is nothing? ” 

“ Who has said so ? ” 

“ My faith ! I simply thought so ! ” 

“And there is exactly where you are wu'ong! there is 
always something, Monsieur le Marquis.” 

“ Are you quite sure of it ? ” 

“ What, am I sure of it! I am then like the man of the 
evangelic parable, at present ? I have eyes that see not and 
ears that hear not! I tell you there are many things.” 

“ That is what we shall see,” 

“ Certainly! To talk of bread and onions for three gen- 
tlemen, and to order me to serve this stew — I who have the 
honor to belong to M. de Chavailles! Oh! vainly you 
shake your head and make a wry face — you will dine and 
dine well, whether or no — or I will lose my name.” 

“ I am very much afraid that you will no longer call j^our- 
self by it to-morrow.” 

“That would be unfortunate,” said M. de Fourquevaux, 
“ such a beautiful name ! ” 

“ Fear nothing, my gentleman, I will soon have proved 
to M. le Marquis that a man of heart knows how to act! ” 
exclaimed Coq-H^-ron exasperated. 

“ I do not ask anything better than to know it,” said M. 
de Chavailles philosophically ; “ never will conviction enter 
into a heart more disposed to receive it,” 

Coq-H6ron gave his hat a sudden jerk and turned on his 
heels. 

“Are you running to your stoves?” M. de Chavailles 
cried to him. 

“ Yes, I am running to them.” 

“ Well ! we have two or three hours leisure then. These 
gentlemen will have time to visit some works that are in 
progress.” 

“ Three hours! what are you thinking about ? ” 

“It is just— such a fine morning— do not vex yourself, 
and let us fix it at four.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


19 


‘‘ I ask you for half-an-liour,” replied Coq-Hk’on, and he 
left like a hare. 

“ Behold a pleasant but eccentric fellow ! ” exclaimed M. 
de Fourqiievaux when Coq-H4ron had disappeared behind 
a tent. 

“ This eccentric fellow would throw himself into the fire 
for me,” replied M. de Chavailles; “but to secure his 
obedience, it is always necessary to ask of him the contrary 
of what one desires. Let us seat ourselves tranquilly 
under this arbor, and be certain that he will not be long 
about reappearing. If I had given him an hour to prepare 
his dinner, he wouldTiave taken four; in offering him three, 
I was sure that he would content himself with a half an 
hour at the most.” 

“ But the dinner — where will he get it ? ” asked the Count, 
who was not so sure about it. 

“ May we never fare worse! ” exclaimed the Marquis ex- 
tending himself upon the grass: “my Master Jacques is 
very expert in these matters.” 

“ Your Master Jacques has a name,” M. de Biparfonds 
then said, “ which awakens all my recollections. His figure 
is also one of those which are not forgotten. How many 
trout have I not caught in his company when I dwelt in the 
chateau of Chavailles! ” 

“ Coq-Heron has seen me born,” said the Marquis, “ and 
since that day he has not left me. He speaks to me like a 
friend, he acts like a faithful servitor; all that it pleases 
him to say, I suffer complacently, being quite sure that 
he will always wind up by doing what I wish. Nothing 
astonishes him, nothing frightens him, and I might almost 
add, nothing moves him, unless it is that which interests 
me. He has followed me everywhere with the blind devo- 
tion of a dog; and he has no defect that I am aware of 
save a love of contradiction. 'He pushes this love even to 
that fabulous point that, in order to make him change his 
opinion, I know of but one practicable means— it is that of 
adopting his own.” 

At this moment Coq-Heron returned all out of breath. 
The worthy servitor bore between his arms a pile of plates, 
glasses, knives, forks, and linen. In a turn of the hand, he 
had drawn a box from a neighboring tent, found some foot- 
stools and put on the cover. 

“ The table is dressed,” said he, “ the dishes are going to 
come ; ” and he disappeared. 

Five minutes after they saw him reappear loaded with 
three or four bottles properly sealed with wax, and with a 
great pastry whose plump and appetizing crust glistened in 
the sun like a cuirass. 

“ Here is something which will assist you in passing the 
time of waiting,” said Coq-Heron gaily. 

And he placed the pastry and bottles on the table. 

At this sight, M. de Fourquevaux’s countenance ex- 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 




panded, he uncorked one of the bottles, tasted the wine 
which it contained, smelt of the pastry and joyously ripped 
it open. 

“ Coq-H4ron, my friend,” he exclaimed, “ you are a great 
man ! ” 

“Wait, sir,” the soldier modestly replied, “I do not yet 
merit your eulogies.” 

And he left again as fast as his legs could carry him. 

When he came back, he was this time followed by two 
soldiers whom he had recruited for the service. One of them 
bore a magnificent ham, a quarter of roast lamb, some 
sausages and pudding cooked upon the coals; the other, 
some partridges, some quail and a young hare spitted. 
Coq-Heron marched at the head of this army corps with a 
supplement of bottles and a basket of fruit ; his countenance 
was radiant. 

He placed the whole upon the table, threw a napkin upon 
his arm, put some plates in the hands of his recruits and 
waited, more grave than an elector of the Roman Empire. 

“Decidedly,” exclaimed M. de Eourquevaux, “ M. de 
Chavailles knew what he was talking about ! Here is some- 
thing worthy of the table of our glorious monarch. To 
your health, Coq-Heron.” 

“ Thanks, sir. I have done the best I could — But do not 
blame M. de Chavailles ; what he said was only for contra- 
dicting me.” 

“ Tn truth ! ” said M. de Riparfonds. 

“Yes, Monsieur, it is the defect of my master; were it 
not for this he would be perfect.” 

^ “ What would you, my poor Coq,” said M. de Chavailles 
sighing, “ man is not perfect; you well know, besides, that 
I always end by giving way to your reasons, above all when 
they are as good as this one.” 

“ Listen, Coq-Heron,” interjected M. de Eourquevaux 
who had a mad desire to laugh, “ if ever you are displeased 
with your master, come with me ; I promise you that you 
will always act as you please, and that you will never be 
contradicted, provided you act in all circumstances as you 
have just done.” 

All the while speaking, the Count did not lose a move of 
his fork and his appetite, stimulated by expectation, seemed 
to gather new strength from each new attack. 

“Tell me,” he continued, addressing himself to Coq- 
Heron, “ what steps you have taken to arrive at so delicious 
a result ? ” 

“ Oh ! it is very simple,” replied the soldier with a modest 
air : “ I have purchased the lamb’s quarter and the sausages, 
I have borrowed the wine and ham, and I have taken the 
rest. That is all.” 

“But it is altogether sufficient! ” exclaimed M. de Four- 
quevaux. “ The generals of an army on a campaign do not 
act otherwise.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


21 


“ Our friend Coq-Heron,” added M. de Eiparfonds, “ has 
made use of three verbs which sum up the science of 
government: to purchase, to borrow and to take.” 

“ Therefore I have made him my Prime Minister,” inter- 
rupted M. de Chavailles. 

In spite of their furious appetite, the three guests could 
not finish Coq-Heron’s dinner; the plates were carried 
off half-full, Coq-Heron served the fruit with the bottles he 
had placed aside for dessert, and the two soldiers trans- 
formed into lackeys withdrew. 

“ This is the time,” said M. de Fourqiievaux, who was 
lying down on the grass, “when, in the old tales, the hero 
narrates his adventures. It is an example which I should 
like to see you imitate, my dear Monsieur de Chavailles. 
For the last hour or two, life appears to me under an aspect 
less sad; make it appear then altogether charming, like a 
joyous history. If M. de Riparfonds was not so grave, he 
would have already asked you, but I put on less ceremony 
about it.” 

“ Willingly,” replied M. de Chavailles; “ I only warn you 
that it will be necessary to go back rather far.” 

“ You mean to sav the story threatens to be a little long ? ” 

“ Perhaps more than long.” 

The Count smiled gaily. 

“ Go ahead,” said he ; “ there is some wine in the bottles, 
this grass is altogether restful, and I never felt more dis- 
posed to listen.” 

“ I am equally disposed,” said the Duke. 

“ Listen then ! Only, permit me to place my individuality 
in the third person. It will be a noun instead of a pro- 
noun. Hector instead of J.” 

“ Is it through modesty ? ” 

“Through vanity, perhaps.” 

“ The two words are sometimes synonymous,” said M. de 
Riparfonds; “choose as you understand their meaning.” 

“ Well then, I begin.” 


CHAPTER III. 

THE LORD OF THE MANOR. 

Toward the end of the last century there was to be seen— 
and it is still to be seen to-day — upon the confines of 
Dauphiny, not far from Vienne, an old chateau blackened 
by time, massive, square, heavy and sinister, whose facade, 
pierced by bullets, overlooked a valley which took its ser- 
pentine course even to the banks of the Rhone. This cha- 
teau, which had received in the neighborhood the popular 
name of Chateau-des-Dames, because it had on the sides of 
its principal door, four figures of fairies of peculiar work- 
manship, had sustained ten sieges and valiantly figured in 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


the history of the province. Leaguers, protestauts, fron- 
deurs and royalists, had taken it and retaken it, scarring its 
walls, and making holes in its towers. It was constantly 
threatened with ruin yet still remained upright. The seig- 
neur who then inhabited it, and who took good care not to 
repair it, said of the Chateau-des-Dames, that it would still 
last a long while unless the devil mixed himself in it and 
threw it down with a stroke of his claws. 

This seigneur, who was the Marquis de Chavailles, might 
be fifty years of age. He was a man large, vigorous, quick 
and alert for his age, gay as a page, skilful in all exercises 
of the body, brave as the Great Conde, a hunter like Nim- 
rod, haughty as an oak, enterprising and determined, but 
yet so kind that he gave to all who asked. You might say 
of him that what he had belonged to all the world. 

During his youth, and even up to his forty-fifth or forty- 
sixth year, he had warred, sometimes in France, sometimes 
in Italy, sometimes in Flanders; he was one of those, who 
had followed the Prince de Conti into Hungary. As he 
lived in grand style and gave away much, he had ended by 
getting away with the most accessible part of his means. 
What was left of the lands belonging to his marquisate w^as 
nothing in comparison with what he had possessed ; but, to 
tell the truth, he cared not at all, and provided that the 
kennel, the cellar, and the stable were well furnished, he 
disturbed himself about nothing. 

It was in IfiTG that the Marquis de Chavailles came, to 
employ an expression which was familiar to him, to take up 
his winter quarters under the old roof of his fathers and 
that he commenced to lead that life of lord of the manor 
which he w’as only to quit when death came. 

Four or five years after his return to the Chateau-des- 
Dames, one day as he -was preparing to leave for the chase, 
some one came to tell him that an orphan girl of noble 
family was going to be thrown out of her home by her 
father’s creditors; thereupon, the old \varrior mounted his 
best horse, pushed off in the direction of the house assailed 
by the officers of justice, and came back in the evening 
with the orphan behind him. 

“Live here as if you w^ere at home,” he said to her; “ the 
house is large enough for two ; I have a very accommoda- 
ting disposition and will not trouble you.” 

There was in one wing of the chateau a well furnished 
room in which the young orphan installed herself. The 
protector and the YivoUge dined together, promenaded to- 
gether a little in the garden during the afternoon, and the 
rest of the time, each one lived in his own fashion. 

Three months after, a hunter of the country told M. de 
Chavailles that a baron of the neighborhood, wim lived 
with the chambermaids of an inn, had made slighting re- 
marks about the poor orphan. 

The Marquis made no reply— which with him was an in- 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


23 


clication of violent anger— saddled his good horse and gal- 
loped hurriedly to the baron’s home. 

He returned some hours after and mounted to his prote- 
gee's room. 

“ People have been using slanderous language concern- 
ing you,” he brusquely said to her. 

“ Ah ! my God ! ” said she growing pale. 

“Be tranquil — I have given a sword thrust to the babblers. 
But it is necessary to avoid these things in the future.” 

“ Tell me what to do, and I will do it.” 

“It is very simple — and I should have thought of it 
sooner: get married.” 

“ But I have nothing! ” 

“ You have what I have-not much, ’tis true, but still it’s 
better than nothing.” 

The orphan girl took the hand of the Marquis and si- 
lently carried it to her lips. 

“I take on myself the task of finding the husband,” 
added M. dp Chavailles, “ unless you yourself have made a 
choice.” 

The poor girl shook her head. 

“Well! ” he pursued, “my choice is a brave gentleman 
who has some fortune and who dwells at some leagues from 
here.” 

“Thus I will have to leave this chateau.” 

“It will be necessary.” 

The orphan began to weep bitterly. 

“My faith!” exclaimed the Marquis much moved, 
“ there is still a means left, but you would not like it.” 

“ I should like to know it.” 

“ Do you wish me for a husband ? I am very old, but 
will love you like a father.” 

“ And I will love you with all my heart,” said the young 
lady giving her hand to the Marquis. 

The next day they w’ere married, and ten months after 
there came into the world a great boy, whom the chaplain 
of the chateau baptized under the name of Hector-Dieu- 
donne de Chavailles. 

This birth rendered the Marquis so happy that for six 
weeks he forgot to hunt. 

Two years after, the Marquise de Chavailles died in giv- 
ing birth to a little girl who also died. 

“ I was too happy,” said the Marquis, “God has wished 
to humiliate me in my happiness.” 

It was the first misfortune of his life; this man, who had 
never known sadness, knew despair. 

His strong organization saved him. He resisted the evil 
and crushed it ; but like a harvester who carries away all 
the sheaves of a field, death in its passage carried away the 
repose, tliP peace, and the happiness of the house. 

Buin visited anew the threshold from which a woman’s 
prudence had driven it away. The greater part of that 


24 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


which remained to the Marquis suffered grievously. What 
was not stolen he gave away. 

He had invited, to take care of his house, a half-sister 
younger than he by twenty years. Of a supple, insinua- 
ting, flattering, reserved, and affected nature, she had the 
mask of all the qualities and the appearance of all the virtues. 

It was to this aunt that the education of the little Hector 
was confided. 

But, thanks to heaven, the Marquis had about him a 
brave soldier who became his servant after having accom- 
panied him in half of his campaigns in the quality of page, 
then of equerry. This soldier, who might be thirty years 
of age and who was called Coq-Heron, from the name of 
the street in which he was born, took on himself the task 
of learning the child what was not taught him. 

Madame de Versaillac, — that was the name of M. de Cha- 
vailles’ sister,— seemed to take great interest in the little 
fellow, though to tell the truth she never bothered herself 
about him ; but Coq-Heron made up for everything. He 
had numberless ruses to constrain his pupil to read and 
write, and through tlie inducement of recompenses which 
consisted of playthings of every species, he attached him 
to study. 

There was at the chateau a great library all filled with old 
and new books, which were covered with dust before the 
time when Madame de Chavailles inhabited this chateau. 
Guided by his natural good sense, Coq-Heron placed turn 
by turn in Hector’s hands the books most loved by the 
Marquise, esteeming that such a holy woman could only 
read honest and proper things. 

The child, whose memory was good, profited by these 
readings, though they were not always very appropiate to 
his age ; when it was a question of sciences or disserta- 
tions, he sometimes went to sleep over the book, but when 
it was a question of battles, of adventures, of surprising 
histories or those great feats of arms which make illustri- 
ous the life of heroes. Hector devoured the volume even to 
the last page. On these days, he dreamed only of cities 
taken, remote expeditions, travels and combats. 

It was thus he learnt history or nearly so. 

The system which had governed the study of history 
presided at the study of languages. Coq-Heron, while mak- 
ing war in Alsace and the Palatinate, had learnt a little 
German ; Madame la Marquise knew Spanish ; the professor 
wished that his young pupil should unite the science of the 
mother to the science of the soldier. He discovered at 
Vienne a very learned old abbe who consented, for two 
crowns and dinner, to come thrice a week to the chateau 
where he taught these two languages to Hector. Geography 
and a little geometry came afterward: the whole was a 
little mixed, but there still remained something in the head 
of the child. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


25 


As soon as the hour of study had passed, Coq-H6ron 
carried Hector off, and that was the moment when com- 
menced the military education. The stable and feucinp:- 
hall of the Marquis were at the disposition of the pupil and 
professor. They abused it. Half of the day was passed in 
mounting on -horseback, firing the carbine or pistol, and 
fencing. From the age of five. Hector fenced with the aid 
of a little 'foil which Coq-Heron had fabricated expressly ^ 
for him. Horseback riding, boxing, and swimming, were 
associated with the rest. At the end of seven or eight 
years of this daily regime, there was no unruly horse, im- 
petuous torrent, precipice or savage beast which could 
frighten Hector. 

Coq-Heron, full at the same time of joy and pride, flat- 
tered himself on his work, and wished in his soul to see 
Hector seated on the throne of France. 

At this epoch, the little fellow followed his father to the 
chase, fired upon wolves as upon partridges, attacked boars 
in their haunts and did not wink at the sight of a bear. He 
was then fourteen. 

This education, which addressed itself to the body and to 
the imagination, had had the double result of extraordina- 
rily developing Hector’s physical strength and of exciting 
in him the love of danger. 

Every day it happened to him to suspend himself to the 
flexible branches of pines, to escalade the most abrupt 
declivities, to plunge into the threatening W'aters of the 
Rhone, to descend into the depth of abysses, to struggle 
against young bulls. Peril fascinated him, and never did 
he experience emotions comparable for sweetness to those 
which he enjoyed during those days when his life was in 
danger. 

M. de Chavailles let Coq-Heron, whose uprightness of 
heart was known to him act as he pleased ; he was one of 
those gentlemen who believe that nobles know enough if 
they know how to read and write. The marvelous attitude 
of his son for the exercises of the body delighted him, the 
rest in nowise disturbed him ; perhaps he even thought that 
Coq-Heron abused books, pens and paper in that which 
concerned Hector’s education ; but Coq-H4ron had on this 
matter other ideas than his master, and M. de Chavailles 
did not oppose him in so small a' thing. 

Meanwhile, things went as usual at the Chateau-des- 
Dan^es ; each year an arpent of land was sold to balance 
receipts and expenses ; those who asked received ; hospital- 
ity was offered to every comer, and the wise resolutions of 
the chatelain, who determined every month to reform the 
abuses, of it, did not hold out against the strength of 
habit. 

A severe administration would have been necessary to 
maintain the fortune of M. de Chavailles at the point to 
which it had descended. The Marquise nlone could have 


26 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


done so. She dead, nothing any longer stopped the cur- 
rent. 

Father and son lived on the best of terms; they had the 
same tastes and did not trouble each other to satisfy them. 
The child had the gaiety natural to his age ; the father, the 
good humor of a gentleman who, all his lif^, has marched 
ill the path of honor, sans pear et sans reproche, like the 
Chevalier Bayard. Nevertheless a grievmus recollection re- 
mained upright in his soul, like a dead tree in the midst of 
a green field. Sometimes he became pensive while looking 
at his son ; he embraced him, a tear or two glittered on the 
border of his eyelids, he sighed and that was all. 

Twice a year, the Chateau-des-Dames changed its aspect ; 
all noise died there, you would have said that life had with- 
drawn from it: these days were the anniversaries of -the 
marriage and death of Madame de Cdiavailles, The Mar- 
quis, his sister, his son and all the household, in deep 
mourning, assisted at a mass which was celebrated in the 
chapel for the repose of the soul of the dead ; the day 
flowed away in prayers and alms ; the evening come, the 
Marquis, holding Hector by the hand, descended into the 
vault where slept the dead woman, knelt down piously and 
kissed the sacred marble. 

The sadness and solemnity of these two days, and the 
funeral ceremonies which accompanied their annual return, 
profoundly impressed the soul of Hector. They accustomed 
him to think of his mother as of a saint who has withdrawn 
from the world to return to heaven, but whose soul is still 
present among those whom she has loved. 

One day, the Marquis being out on a wolf hunt, rolled 
with his horse into the bottom of a hole whose surface was 
hidden by the snow. The animal died at once; the hunter 
was brought back to the chateau on a litter ; his legs were 
broken in two or three places, and his whole body bruised up. 

A surgeon was sent for from Vienne; at the "first inspec- 
tion of the wounded man, he judged that the amputation of 
the most injured leg was necessary. The surgeon drew out 
his instrument case, bandaged the contusions, and reset 
the disjointed bones. 

The next day, the surgeon raised the dressing and tested 
the patient’s pulse ; a violent fever had declared itself and 
the aspect of the wounds was not at all reassuring. M. de 
Chavailles, who looked the surgeon in the eyes, saw a 
shadow pass over his countenance. 

“You think. Monsieur, that I am not getting along as 
you hoped ? ” said he arresting his hand. 

The surgeon hesitated to reply. 

“Speak without fear, continued the patient, .“ you are 
dealing with an old soldier.” 

“Well! Monsieur,” seplied the practitioner, “since it is 
thus, I believe that if you have some dispositions to take, 
you would do well to make haste.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


27 


“ Thanks, Monsieur; at present, bandage me.” 

When the operation was terminated, the old Marquis had 
everybody dismissed, keeping near him only the faithful 
Coq -Heron. 

“ My poor old fellow,” said he to the soldier, as soon as 
they were alone, ” the moment of separation has come, do 
not weep and listen well to what I say.” 

“Yes, Monsieur le Marquis,” replied Coq- Heron, who 
pressed back his tears with his fists. 

“I confide to you my son; whatever happens you will 
never abandon him.” 

“ Never! ” said the poor servitor like an echo. 

“ The word of a soldier is sacred ; you make me this 
promise upon your honor as a soldier.” 

Coq-Heron raised his hand and promised. 

“ Well! but that is not all yet,” continued the Marquis; 
“Hector is quick, impetuous, enterprising; you will be 
prudent for both, you will see to it that he does not heed- 
lessly throw himself before every peril; but if he does so in 
spite of you, you will follow him.” 

“ Parbleu ! ” replied Coq-Heron naively. 

“ I believe,” continued the Marquis, who could not keep 
from smiling, “ that I have never administered my fortune 
economically.” 

“I think so, myself.” 

“ My poor dear wife has left too soon.” 

“ Too soon,” repeated Coq-Heron with a sorrowful air. 

“ As to Madame de Versaillac, she has a fashion of admin- 
istering my property which I do not understand. Every 
time that I have questioned her on this subject, she has 
talked to me at so great length and with such minuteness 
of detail, that I have preferred to believe her upon her 
W'ord rather than to listen to her any longer.” 

“I can imagine so,” said Coq-Heron. 

“ The good lady has a rather sharp disposition in spite of 
her sanctimonious air, and I have an idea that my son 
Hector will not accomodate himself to her guardianship ; 
but you will be here, my friend.” 

“ Always.” 

“If Madame de Versaillac presents her accounts, you will 
examine them; but, to tell the truth, that is something 
which will not occur to her; and I imagine, besides, that 
Hector would not be profited by it.” 

“ I am afraid of it.” 

“Everything is consumed; but, foreseeing this moment, 
I have, for some yf'ars, amassed without speaking of it to 
any one, all the gold louis which passed through my hands. 

“Ah bah! ” murmured Coq-Her,on opening wide his eyes. 

“ My faith, yes! There ought to be to-day twelve of fif- 
teen thousand livres. It is no great thing, but it may aid 
you in a difficult moment,” 

“ Certainly I ” 


^9 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


*‘I have placed these louis in an old chest of which this 
is the key,” continued M. de Chavailles drawing an iron 
key from under his pillow. “ As to the chest, you will find it 
in the fencing hall, to the left, under an old cupboard of the 
time of the Crusades.” 

“ It is of oak, studded with great nails and very ugly, and 
all filled, I believe, with sword blades, with gauntlets, with 
armlets and other engines of war.” 

“ That is it— the gold is under the iron, in a leather 
sack.” 

“Very well! ” 

“ You will make use of it for Hector’s needs — do not limit 
him. When the last louis is gone, my son will be of an age 
to push himself in the world. Besides, twelve or fifteen 
thousand livres is not a sum to be economized.” 

“ Undoubtedly ’tis not.” 

“And then, the son will probably act like the father; he 
is of a blood that never counts. Let him have his way.” 

“Yes.” 

“ He is of a good house and he knows how to handle the 
sword ; you will make war together.” 

In spite of his sadness, Coq-Heron rubbed his hands at 
the thought of again going forth in search of adventures. 

M. de Chavailles understood this movement and smiled. 

On hearing the last words of the Marquis, the soldier had 
rejoiced as an old horse at the sound of the trumpet. 

“Now, let us say adieu and go to seek my son,” added the 
wounded man. 

The soldier approached the bed on which M. de Chavailles 
lay to kiss his hands ; but the gentleman opened his arms, 
and they embraced each other cordially. 

When Coq-H6ron went out, he was stifling; he ran to 
Hector’s room, took him by the hand and conducted him to 
M. de Chavailles without proffering a word. 

Hector placed himself upright at the foot of his father’s 
bed, silent and attentive. 

“I have had you brought to me, my son,” said the Mar- 
quis to him, “ to receive my last counsels and my benedic- 
tion ; after which you will embrace me, and I will think on 
death which is impatient and calls me. In all the course of 
your life, recollect that you are a gentleman, and that this 
estate commands you to be honorable. Be then brave and 
loyal alw'ays, come what may 1 I have lived like a soldier, 
without counting, and leave you without fortune, but with- 
out debts. To count is not natural to our blood ; therefore, 
give so long as you have and regret nothing. The chiefs of 
the best houses of France have commenced like you, hav- 
ing only the cloak and ,the sword. Follow the career of 
arms, and sec the world! If some day you get married, 
think less of givipg yourself an agreeable companion for 
your life, than a virtuous mother to your children. The 
future comes while the present passes. There are two ways 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


29 


to conduct oneself in the terrestrial journey which I have 
taken seventy years to terminate. Some go straight before 
them like a bullet, others veer and creep along like rivers. 
Frenchman, fight for your country; gentleman, fight for 
your king; soldier, fight for 3^our honor. And may God 
now open the eyes of your mind and guide you in the right 
path ! 

“Coq-Heron will remain near you,” continued M. de 
Chavailles after a moment’s meditation; “love him as a 
good servitor, respect him as an old soldier. His blood has 
been mixed with mine on ten battle-fields. Promise me to 
never abandon him, when age shall have exhausted his 
strength, consumed in our service.” 

“I promise you,” said Hector. 

M. de Chavailles made a sign to his son to approach. 

Hector, who was afraid of bursting into sobs if he opened 
his mouth, silently knelt down'. The father extended his 
hands over the head of the child and blessed him in his 
mother’s name. 

“Now, my son, embrace me,” he said. 

Hector, without speaking, and countenance inundated 
with tears, threw himself into his father’s arms. For a mo- 
ment one heard only the noise of his kisses and of his half- 
stified sobs; then, after having glued his lips a last time to 
Hector’s humid forehead, the father, summoning all his 
strength, pushed his son away from him : 

“ Go, and tell my confessor that I am waiting for him,” 
said the Marquis. 

After having received the sacraments of the Church with 
the calm and piety of a Christian soldier, M. de Chavailles 
sent every one away, placed himself upon his side, and 
closed his eyes like a man who wishes to sleep. 

In t!ie meantime, Madame de Versaillac was searching the 
chateau from top to bottom. When she met any one she 
sighed deeply, rubbed her eyes to redden them and passed 
her handkerchief over her countenance as if to hide her 
tears— which did not flow, however. 

Toward evening, Coq-H6ron softly entered the room of 
the sick man, and approaching the bed, parted the curtains. 

M. de Chavailles was dead. 


CHAPTEE IV. 

THE FIRST DAYS. 

Immediately after M. de Chavailles’ death, Madame de 
Versaillac took possession of the government of the house. 
Natural guardian of the young Hector— who was then fif- 
teen or sixteen years of age— she made her rights recog- 
nized, and proved that the Chateau- des-Dames and the lit- 
tle ground which still formed its dependency were engaged 


30 


THE ROYAL CHASE 


for sums almost equal to their value. From the papers and 
accounts which she exhibited, it resulted that the guardian 
was the ward’s creditor. Immediately making use of the 
double authority which her disputable rights and her rela- 
tionship gave her, Madame de A^ersaillac reformed the stable 
and the kennel, sent away the jockeys and sold the hunting 
outfit: 

Hector, wholly wrapped up in his despair, paid no atten- 
tion to it at first, but Coq-Heron thought that the time had 
come to make use of the full powers which M. de Chavailles 
had bequeathed to him. 

He ran to the leather sack which he had prudently con- 
cealed in his room under a basin, took a handful of louis, 
and bought back again the two best horses of M. de Cha- 
vailles’ stables, with a provision of arms of every species. 

When Madame de Versaillac saw returning triumphantly 
the two horses loaded with a panoply of carbines, of swords, 
of poniards, of pistols, of muskets, and of rapiers, she 
called for Coq-Heron and made inquiry as to the artifice 
which he had employed to recover the whole. 

Coq-Heron tranquilly replied that he had used no artifice, 
as he had paid for the arms and horses with the fruit of his 
economy. 

Madame de Versaillac thought that this economy, in a 
house where it had been unknown, revealed itself* rather 
suddenly; but, as it was not easy to discover the origin of 
it, she limited herself to declaring that being disposed to 
reduce all expenses, she engaged Coq-Hth’on to provide for 
the nourishment of the two horses. 

Coq-Heron replied that if there was no longer enough 
straw and oats at the chateau to nourish M. de Chavailles’ 
two coursers, he would find farmers in the neighborhood 
quite disposed to take them in recollection of the kindness 
of the Marquis. 

Madame de Versaillac did not reply, and things remained 
there for this time. 

The good lady had thrown aside the mask as soon as she 
had felt herself mistress of the house. Of mildness, of pa- 
tience of benignity, of moderation — it was no longer a 
question. Without any transition the eel was transformed 
into a viper. 

Coq-Heron let Madame de Versaillac have her way ; he had 
his plan of conduct outlined, and the last words which M. 
de Chavailles had addressed to him constantly sounded in 
his ear. They worried him in vain— he suffered everything 
without complaining, resolved as he was to endure all to 
remain near Hector. 

In the beginning, Madame de Versaillac wished to tutor 
the little savage whom M. de Chavailles and Coq-Heron had 
permitted to grow up at liberty. Hector paid no attention 
to either warnings or remonstrances, and Madame de Ver- 
saillac growing obstinate, ho contracted the habit of disap- 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


31 


peariug at the first word. Madame de Versaillac was not of 
an age to follow him in the woods, and had she been 
younger, it is doubtful if she had desired to do so. She 
revenged herself for these acts of rebellion by having the 
doors closed at evening; but Hector returned through the 
windows, or if he did not find them open, he slept in a 
barn. 

Coq-H4ron, who aided Hector in his daily struggle, was 
no less than his pupil the object of Madame de Versaillac’s 
aversion. If she was tenacious, he was patient, and the 
animosity of the aunt could not overcome the constancy of 
the valet. 

Madame de Versaillac's hope w’as to push her nephew to 
some act of violence which would permit her to employ 
against him the coercive means which the law placed at the 
disposition of near relatives. But the vigilance of the old 
soldier and his influence over Hector’s mind balked all the 
attempts of the guardian. 

There were no pitched battles as yet, but there were 
already combats of the advance guard and skirmishes. A 
kind of civil war in the style of the Fronde was waged in 
the chateau. Madame de Versaillac represented the royal 
authority, and Coq-H6ron the power of Parliament. 

Madame de Versaillac, under an improvised pretext, 
sold those books in the library which were most useful or 
agreeable to Hector. Coq-Heron ran to his leather sack and 
made himself owmer of the volumes which he gravely 
brought back. 

Another time, the madame dismissed the professors, 
affirming that the price of science made it impossible for 
her to carry on her charities, unless she was a millionaire. 
Coq-H4ron mounted a horse, went to Vienne, had an under- 
standing with the professors, and the next day they were 
again seen to appear at the chateau. 

Madame de Versaillac trembled with anger, went from 
room to room, scolded everybody, muttered between her 
teeth a thousand menaces, and tortured her imagination to 
divine whence Coq-Heron drew the sums which he con- 
secrated to the education, the pleasures and the fantasies 
of Hector. 

But the insinuations, the menaces, the cajolings, the fits 
of passion found the old soldier equally impassible. The 
discourses of Madame de Versaillac roared in his ears like a 
whirlwind of mosquitoes in the ears of a granite sphinx. 
When she had finished, he saluted and went away. 

An aid had come to Madame de Versaillac to sustain her 
in this implacable war. 

Six months after M. de Chavailles’ death, the chateau had 
been visited by a species of abbe, whom the good lady had 
received with demonstrations of joy, a rapture and smiles 
which were not customary with her. During three days, 
the chateau had literally been turned upside down. A 


32 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


squad of upholsterers invaded the most beautiful apart- 
ment to put it in order to receive the guest whom Provi- 
dence confided to it; joiners and cabinet-makers were de- 
manded to prepare furniture in the best taste; carriage- 
makers at Vienne received orders to construct a carriage 
for the benefit of the abbe; a cook was installed in the 
chateau with a band of kitchen-boys ; a butler filled the 
cellars with the best wines, and Madame de Versaillac, bus}' 
in the midst of this mob of valets, mounted and descended, 
without truce or repose, putting her hand in everything and 
filling the chateau with the noise of her reprimands. 
Nothing that the abbe desired w'as ever done quickly or 
well enough, and he only wished the best of everything, 
the holy man ! 

Whence came he? where had Madame de Versaillac 
known him ? what connection united them ? how had they 
met ? to what religious order did he belong? was he one of 
those abbes who don and quit the canonicals at will ? what 
were his means of existence, his object, his past ? Of all 
these things no one at the chateau, or in the neighborhood, 
knew anything about. 

He had been seen to arrive on fdot in the long avenue of 
the chateau, one summer afternoon, tranquilly, at a slow 
pace, like a good country cure who regains his presbytery. 
Madame de Versaillac had almost fainted with joy on see- 
ing him ; they had shut themselves up for an hour in a 
solitary room, and, on the same day, he had installed him- 
self in the chateau like a man who was to make along 
sojourn there. 

It could not be denied that the Abbe Hernandez was in- 
telligent, of good manners, of a great facility of elocution, 
— always saying just what he wished to say, and in the best 
terms,— of dignity and grace in his gestures, and of much 
penetration. He had the art of listening and of speaking 
only at the proper time, but then with force and clearness. 
He had a fine leg, a small foot, a hand soft and white as 
that of a woman, an unctuous smile, a caressing tone, an 
insinuating style of speech, a calm and tranquil air ; but 
something clear and vibrating in the tone of his voice, of 
brusque in his look, the trembling of his nostrils and the 
muscles of his forehead which was extraordinarily mobile, 
the bold and firm cut of his chin, the rapid coloring of his 
countenance, which, under the influence of a secret emo- 
tion, passed suddenly from pale to purple to return after- 
wards to the lividness of a corpse, indicated that this cat- 
like envelope concealed a lion’s character, — headstrong, im- 
perious, tenacious, and violent. 

The Abb6 Hernandez had not been at the chateau eight 
days before he was dreaded by everybody, and yet there 
was nothing to be seen in his language and his actions to 
give cause for fear. His aspect alone imposed ; his habi- 
tual silence, his gravity embarassed ; one felt ill at ease 


THE nOYAL CHASE, 


33 


under his look which seemed to seek in the depth of the 
heart the shadow of secret thoughts. It was understood, 
without any revelation being made with regard to it, that 
he alone was the master at the chateau in the future. 

Coq-Heron saw in the abbe only a new-comer and paid no 
attention to him at the beginning. Hector looked at him 
with that unquiet curiosity of children whom everything 
interests, and avoided him without being able to assign 
any motive therefore had he been asked for one. 

Madame de Versaillac appeared fascinated by the abbe’s 
presence. Her eyes grew dim and lit up while listening to 
him; she was for him of an unparalelled sweetness and, as 
Coq-Heron said, all sugar and honey. She spent, since his 
arrival, enormous sums for pomades, essences, ribbons and 
lace ; every day she wore new hoods and dazzling furbelows. 
For the abbe were prepared the most exquisite dishes, the 
finest pastry; the most delicate wines were for him, yet 
they were not always good enough and it wuis necessary to 
bring them from distant countries. She had suddenly be- 
come prodigal, whereas before she had been miserly; as 
soon as it was a question of the holy man, money flowed 
between her fingers like water. She had an oratory ar- 
ranged for him which had the appearance of a boudoir, and 
a bedroom, gallant and perfumed like that of a maid of 
honor. 

Every day they had long Ute-a-Utes in a certain little 
cabinet concealed under hangings, warm and discreet, all 
embalmed with perfumes and veiy^ appro[)iate to secret 
conversation. Madame de Versaillac remained there a 
long time with doors closed and blinds lowered, and when 
she returned from the room, all inflamed with a holy ardor 
of exaltation, her sanctimonious countenance and the 
ecstasy of her look indicated well enough the fervor of her 
enthusiasm. 

That secret adoration of every moment, that incense 
burned at his feet, in nowise troubled the placidity of the 
Abbd Hernandez. He breathed its emanations with the 
serene and superb gravity of a pontiff who knows what is 
due him. 

So long as things remained in this state, Coq-Heron did 
not concern himself much about it ; but when the day came 
on which Madame de Versaillac manifested the intention 
of placing the young Hector under the direction of the 
holy abbe, fright seized the old soldier. In this matter, 
Madame de Versaillac made use of her legitimate authority, 
and the thrust could not be parried. It was necessary to 
give way and submit. Hector, from this time on, was to go 
to the abba’s room three or four times a week, and patiently 
listen to his lessons. 

Fifteen days after, a violent quarrel broke out between 
the pupil and the professor. 

The abbe had at first attempted to seduce the child by 
3 


84 


THE IWYAL CHASE. 


softness and caresses; the child, put on his guard by the 
repulsion which the abbe inspired in him, welcomed his 
advances coldly. Soon vexed by his little success, and see- 
ing in Hector only a little fellow whom he would reduce at 
the .lirst effort, the abbe used his authority. Hector was 
refractory like a horse who is made to feel the bit and spur 
for the first time. Irritated this time, the abb^ employed 
menace, and Hector at once revolted. 

Man and child were seated in front of each other on the 
two sides of a table which occupied the middle of a cabinet 
adjoining the abba’s room. They looked at each other fix- 
edl}^ without speaking, for the space of some seconds. The 
mournful eyes of the abb(5 were suddenly inflamed and 
shone like burning coals ; the child was very pale, which 
with him was the sign of a violent emotion. 

“ Monsieur Hector,” the abbe Anally said, with that calm 
voice which had the sonorousness of metal, “ twice already 
you have made mo repeat the same thing; it is too much 
by half. Obey ! ” 

“ I will not obey,” said the child. 

It was a question of a punishment which the abb6 wished 
to inflict on Hector, and which Hector did not wish to sub- 
mit to, because, according to his conscience, he did not 
merit it. 

“ Ah ! ” said the abbe, whose lips had become white, “ you 
refuse?” 

“Yes.” . 

“Listen to me well,” continued the abbe, pressing his 
pupil’s wrist across the table ; “ if you do not submit im- 
mediately, you will undergo a regime which will break your 
obstinacy; there are switches at the chateau. Thus o"bey, 
or take care. It is I who counsel jmu.” 

“ Listen to me in your turn, sir,” replied Hector; “ and in 
the first place do not press my arm any more as you have 
just done, because a second time I might not have the 
patience to endure it. Afterward, know, once for all, that 
being a gentleman and the last of my name, I am afraid 
of nothing. Thus, in the future avoid the trouble of threat- 
ening. There is no regime which can make me give way. 
Still a word: you have spoken of switches, I believe. No 
one has ever touched me, my father not having wished it. 
What M. le Marquis de Chavailles has not tried. Monsieur 
I’Abbe, you had better not dare.” 

“Yours is a very eloquent discourse,” replied the Abbe 
Hernandez; “but you may repent it, and to begin with, 
you ai-e going to remain till this evening in this cabinet.” 

“ Till this evening ? ” 

“ Till to-morrow, if you wish ? ” 

Speaking thus, the abb6 directed his course toward the 
door, and having passed beyond the threshold, placed his 
hand upon the key of the lock. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


35 


Hector rose up, threw a rapid glance around him, and 
made no opposition. 

The abbe stopped, turned the key, and showing the bolt 
to Hector, said ; 

“ Do you think this bolt is strong enough ? ” 

“ And do you think this window is large enough ? ” Hec- 
tor replied. 

And, before the abbe had time to oppose his action, Hec- 
tor opened the window and jumped to the bottom. 

It was twenty-five or thirty feet to the ground, and the 
abbe had reason to fear that Hector might have broken some 
of his limbs, but having advanced to the window, he saw 
Hector, already upright, who saluted him. 

Hector related what he had just done to Coq-Heron, who 
embraced hiiAwith joy, saddled two horses, took two guns 
and carried him away to the chase, where the soldier and 
child remained three days. 

The abbe made the same narrative to Madame de Yer- 
saiilac, who took heaven as witness to so great a crime and 
swore to punish her abominable nephew. 

They had decided, she and the abbe, to make Hector 
enter into orders, and it was with the object of leading to 
this devout conclusion that the abbe had undertaken to com- 
mence over again the education outlined by Coq-Heron. 
Hector no longer found anything on bistable but breviaries 
and books of theology of which he was perfectly resolved 
to never cut the virginal pages. Between Madame de Ver- 
saillacand himself, there were each day new dialogues whose 
peroration can be summed up in ten words: five for the 
aunt, and five for the nephew. 

“ You will be a priest,” said the lady. 

“ I will be a soldier,” replied the child. 

In the meanwhile, and as Coq-Heron seriously asked him- 
self if the mojnent had not come to make his young mas- 
ter see the country and push him on in that career of arms 
to which every man of some birth was call from the cradle, 
an incident determined a crisis which decided Hector’s 
life. 

The Abbe Hernandez, stimulated by Madame de Versaillac, 
pursued his plan of religious education, and, whether or 
no, it was sometimes necessary to submit to it. Not that 
Hector consented to it willingly, but because of Coq-Heron, 
who did not wish the couj) d’etat before the hour chosen. 

One day as it was a question of a book of theology of a 
transcendental nature. Hector grew impatient, took the 
book, threw it through the window, and swore, in his exas- 
peration, that he would treat thus all those which should 
fall under his hand. 

“ That would be edifying! ” said the abbe. 

“Parbleu!” said Hector, tormented by anger, “if you 
wish any diversion, I will procure it for you right away. 

And, running to the abb6’s library, he took at hazard a 


36 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


dozen volumes and threw them merrily out as he had done 
the first. 

“What do you think of it ? ” he exclaimed when a shelf 
was despoiled. 

The abbe, in the meantime, had risen very tranquilly. 

He approached Hector and gravely looked in the library, 
as if to judge the havoc it had suffered. 

“ It is very well, my friend,” said he; “you are a small 
libertine whom it will be necessary to chastise, and I charge 
mj^self with the task.” 

And taking Hector with one hand by the ear, he smil- 
ingly pinched him on the nose with the other. 

The child became pale; his eyes shone like fire, then 
veiled themselves suddenly, he made a step or two back- 
ward, uttered a cry like that of a h 3 ’ena and fell fainting. 

When he returned to himself, he felt upon his counte- 
nance, an impression of freshness; he carried his hands to 
his face and wetted them at the contact with his cheeks. 

The abbe was before him, a glass of water in his hand; 
Hector rose up with a bound. 

“You are the first man who has laid hands on me,” 
said he in a voice trembling with anger; “ by my mother’s 
soul, I will remember it.” 

The abb6 shrugged his shoulders and the child left. 


CHAPTER V. 

A GOOD HERMIT. 

Hector, contrary to his custom, did not speak of this ad- 
venture to Coq-Heron. He kept his resentment to himself 
like a wild beast who, in his flight, carries away the dart 
wTiich has wounded him, and, as he alone had" been of- 
fended, he wished to be alone to brood over his vengeance. 

This ferocious silence denoted a resolution, and as he 
■was sure not to hesitate, he patiently waited for the occa- 
sion. 

It was fifteen days in presenting itself, and during these 
fifteen days, he let nothing of his project transpire to the 
confident of his youth, to the protector of his childhood. 
The habit of living in the woods, in the heart of the moun- 
tains, at night lying in wait for wild animals, alone very 
often during long hours, had accustomed his mind to soli- 
tary exaltations, to those pleasures of the inner dream 
which one caresses, to the intoxications of the winged 
fantasy which one pursues. Besides, child as he was, he 
liked to subdue himself as he subdued a young stallion. 

One day, about three or four o’clock. Hector saw the 
abbe move awaj^ in the direction of a wood which covered 
the slope of a hill, at a league from the chateau. He fur- 
tively drew from a great tree in which he had hid them, on 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


37 


the day following his adventure, two swords, of equal length, 
pressed them under a shepherd’s cloak with which he was 
accustomed to envelope himself when he left for the chase, 
and, passing behind the hedges, softly followed the abb4. 

The abbe advanced slowly ; but each, step brought him 
nearer the wood. In the fields there were toilers who, rec- 
ognizing Hector, saluted him ; Hector made them a little 
sign of the head and pursued his way. His heart was 
beating rapidly. When he saw his enemy enter the wood, 
he sighed like a man relieved of a great weight, and if, at 
this moment, the abbe had turned back, perhaps Hector 
would have barred his passage. 

But the abbe disappeared under the cover of the trees and 
Hector disappeared with him. 

There was in the center of the wood a stream which 
fiowed over the turf, and near which, returning from the 
chase. Hector and Coq-Heron sometimes stopped to break- 
fast. 

As soon as he heard the murmur of the water gliding 
among the grass and pebbles, Hector left his hiding-place 
and presented himself before the abbe. 

“You did not expect me, monsieur,” said Hector on dis- 
covering himself; “ nevertheless we have a debate to con- 
clude between ourselves.” 

The abbe smiled disdainfully. 

“The only business I have with you is to correct you 
when you merit it,” said he, “ do not force me to recollect 
it when we return to the chateau.” 

“ Eecollect it immediately,” said Hector; and, opening 
his cloak, he made two swords glitter before the abbe’s 
eyes. 

The abbe looked at Hector, and his livid forehead grew 
contracted. 

“ Ah ! ” he continued, affecting not to believe in the dan- 
ger of the situation, “ it is a duel that you have just pro- 
posed to me ? ” 

“A duel.” . 

The abbe gave vent to a burst of laughter. 

“And if I do not wish it ? ” said he crossing his^arms. 

“ I will force you to it.” 

“ How, may I ask ? ” 

“ By striking you with the flat side of this sword until you 
fight.” 

The abbe looked around him to see if anyone was pass- 
ing in reach of his voice, 

“ Do not cry out,” Hector said to him, divining his inten- 
tion, “ for, as true as I am called Hector de Chavailles, at 
the first cry, I will butcher you like a dog.” 

From the tone in which his adversary spoke, the abb6 
understood that he would do it without hesitation. 

“ It is a trap,” said he. 

“ Monsieur TAbbe,” replied Hector quickly, “you have 


38 


THE ROYAL CHASE, 


done me the honor to say you were a gentleman. I also am 
one ; I propose to you a loyal duel. Accept, or I break the 
blades of these two swords across your face.” 

The eyes of the abbe reddened as if they were suddenly 
injected with blooc]. 

“ Well! ” said he, extending his hand, “ give me one of 
them.” 

Hector, who was holding the swords by the guard, started 
to take them by the blade; the abbe took advantage of the 
movement and bounded toward Hector with the intention 
of disarming him. 

But he found an adversary who opposed to him a resist- 
ance which he did not expect. 

Hector glided between his enemy’s hands like a snake, 
seized him suddenly by the waist and throat, and threw him 
rudely on tlue ground. 

“Traitor!” he exclaimed, “if you do not pick up that 
sword I will cut your throat.” 

And, pushing with the foot toward the abbe one of the 
swords he had thrown upon the turf, he bravely grasped 
the other and put himself on guard. 

The abb4 leaped upon the sword with the roar of a wild 
beast and resolutely attacked Hector. 

He had the pallid face of a corpse and a sort of white foam 
at the corners of his mouth. 

The two adversaries kept, in exchanging their strokes, a 
ferocious silence. Only the noise of their respiration and 
the clashing of steel was to be heard. 

In spite of his repugnance to fight, the abbe handled the 
sword like a man who knows fencing and has practiced it. 
But the lessons of M. de Chavailles and Coq-Heron had 
made Hector proflcent in tliis art, and whatever address 
the abbe displayed, he could not avoid a first thrust in the 
throat and a second through the body. 

The abbe let go his sword, fell upon his knees, then upon 
his back, and writhed upon the grass reddened with blood. 

Hector shivered from head to foot and leaned against a 
tree to keep from falling. He looked at the bloody blade 
which hejield in his hand, at the body writhing on the turf, 
and felt a cold sweat bedew his forehead. It was the first 
time that the blood of a man bathed his hands, and he was 
scarcely eighteen. 

That inexpressible sensation lasted some seconds, which 
appeared to him very long and very bitter; but finally he 
understood that his own safety should first be considered. 
Hector threw his sword away, left the abbe where he fell, 
and, taking his course through the woods, he arrived at the 
chateau before the abbe’s absence could be remarked. 

Hector glided in through a back door, mounted to his 
room, wrote some words to Coq-Heron, and turned the note 
over to a valet with the order to transmit it to him as 
quickly as possible, took his gun, a hunting knife, some 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


39 


powder aud lead, put in liis pocket all the money he had on 
hand, and left the chateau to return there no more. 

Two things equally fatal stood in the way of his return — 
his duel with a man of the Church ajid his aunt’s hatred. 
'Though still very young. Hector was aware of the rigor of 
the royal edicts against the duello ; his crime was aggra- 
vated by the position of the adversary against whom he 
had fought, and Madame de Versaillac would not fail to take 
advantage of this circumstance. It was necessary then to 
renounce the hope of ever seeing again, or for a long time 
at least, the chateau where he was born and where his 
father had died. 

The night had almost come when Hector lost sight of the 
old towers of the Chateau-des-Dames. He plunged into the 
woods, gained an isolated gorge, and, rolled up in his cloak, 
went to sleep in a little grotto before which he had heaped 
up great stones to avoid the visits of wolves. 

At the moment of his flight from the chateau. Hector had 
not been able to take counsel with Coq-Heron, who was on 
business at Valence. In the note which he had written to 
him, he gave him a rendezvous at Avignon, where Hector 
wished to go, counting upon the inviolability of the papal 
lands. United at Avignon, they would act in concert, ac- 
cording to circumstances. 

At day-break Hector awoke, renewed the priming of his 
gun and left the grotto. He regretted nothing of what he 
had done the evening before, having concerning the duel 
the ideas of a good and brave gentleman. He had con- 
quered his liberty by a thrust of liis sword, and had just set 
out on that wandering life which had possessed such at- 
tractions for his childhood. The fresh air of the morning 
had given him an appetite ; the aspect of the landscape, 
which was superb and solitary, put him in a fine humor; 
he sought the wherewith to apease his juvenile hunger, aud 
seeing a hare passing over the hill : 

“ Good,” said he, ‘‘ here is my dinner in flight,” and with 
a shot, he stopped the fugitive. 

He next improvised a brazier and roasted the game. 

A clear stream running from the side of the hill distilled 
its silver tears into the hollow of a neighboring rock. Hec- 
tor had bread in his game-bag, so he dined gaily, put the 
rest of the hare aside tor supper and set out for the 
Comtat. 

His project was to make his way there by obscure roads, 
not wishing to follow the main route, on account of the 
mounted police. 

On the way he killed a wood-hen or two to augment his 
provisions and purchased from a shepherd guarding a herd 
of goats, a piece of brown bread. This day he made eight 
or twelve leagues in the direction of the Comtat, and, when 
evening came, he sought some grotto to lay down in. 

He discovered one on the side of a ravine in which he ex- 


40 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


tended himself, after having barricaded th« entrance with 
stones and bushes. 

He had been asleep two or three hours when he was sud- 
denly awakened in surprise by the howls of a band of 
wolves who‘were trying to overturn the barrier at theen-’ 
trance of the grotto. 

They were so persistent and active, that this feeble obsta- 
cle could not long keep them back. Hector judged it pru- 
dent to intervene at once. 

Hector shot one wolf dead, who was instantly torn in 
pieces by the other assailants. 

He then loaded his gun with some small shot, fired into 
the band, and wounded two. The two wounded wolves left 
like an arrow and the rest of the band disappeared in pur- 
suit of them. 

After this episode. Hector went to sleep again. 

The next day, he set out at dawn, directing his course al- 
ways toward the south and only stopping to eat. He had 
made about seven or eight leagues, when at the entrance of 
a wood he perceived a squad of soldiers whose chief on 
horseback seemed to expect some one at the passage. 

But at the same time that the fugitive discovered the men 
of the King, the men of the King discovered Hector. He 
who appeared to be their chief made him a sign to ap- 
proach; this was exactly what Hector had resolved not to 
do under any pretext, and to avoid being taken by these 
cavaliers, he abandoned the road he was following and took 
to the mountain. 

They called him,— he did not reply; they threatened to 
fire upon him as upon a deer, if he did not advance at the 
order — he ran the more quickly; but, in running, he lightly 
turned his head to see from the corner of his eye what was 
passing behind him: one of the soldiers aimed at his 
cheek. Hector jumped behind a bush, and the ball flattened 
itself against a stone at twenty steps from the fugitive. 
Hector threw himself flat on his stomach, and, creeping on 
his feet and hands, he gained the bottom of the ravine 
where grew a thick clump of hazel, oak, and chestnut trees. 
He squatted like a hare in its den and patiently waited for 
the soldiers to move away. 

They remained around the ravine some time, not daring 
to descend into it with their horses and not wishing to ven- 
ture there one at a time and on foot. 

“ If it is I whom they seek,” thought Hector, “ they will 
wait; if it is some vagabond, they will not lose their time 
in pursuit of me and will go away. I have provisions and 
munitions of war ; all the advantage of the situation is with 
me.” 

The thing happened as he had foreseen ; at the end of an 
hour, the soldiers left the borders of the ravine, and tlie 
noise of their steps was lost in the distance. 

Nevertheless Hector waited an hour or two before aban- 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


41 


doning his retreat. He advanced at first to the extremity 
of the ravine, half opened the curtain of branches looked 
attentively around him, and seeing no one, he ventured to 
ascend the rock. Night came as he arrived upon the 
plateau : a mist which suddenly rose up enveloped him 
while he was seeking the road from which the presence of 
the soldiers had driven him, and after making fifty ste})s, 
he lost his bearings. 

At the end of an hour or two’s walk, harassed with fatigue 
and fearing to fall in some hole, Hector stopped at a tree 
which he stumbled ui)on, and passed the night extended 
among its branches, as he had often done when out hunt- 
ing. 

At day-break, he descended, walking at hazard to drive 
away the cold which benumbed him ; the dark fog covered 
the earth with its fioating winding sheet. The confused 
forms of the trees and the rocks were effaced in the density 
of this gray mist, which seemed to increase as Hector ad- 
vanced. 

About two o’clock in the afternoon, when the strength of 
the sun had slightly dissipated the mist. Hector found him- 
self on a heath thick-set with clumps of oaks, where two or 
three paths crossed each other. A great forest closed the 
horizon on one side, a rampart of hills closed it on the 
other. Hector did not know which of the paths he ought to 
follow, when having heard the noise of steps, he turned 
back and perceived, at a little distance, a man who was ad- 
vancing toward him. 

This man wore a woolen robe whose heavy hood covered 
his head, a belt of cord, sandals, a long red beard and a 
necklace of those Saint Michael shells which pilgrims sus- 
pend upon their shoulders; he held in one hand a stout 
stick of cherry wood, and in the other, the leash of a great 
dog with black and bushy hair. 

Hector judged that this must be some hermit of the neigh- 
borhood and waited for him to inquire about his road. 

The hermit stopped in his turn, and the great black dog 
placed himself before him. 

“ My father,” said Hector, “ if you belong to this country, 
perhaps you can indicate to me the road which I ought to 
follow to go to Avignon ? ” 

“You are going to the Comtat, my child ? ” replied the 
hermit fixing upon Hector a curious look. 

“Yes.” 

“In that case, you can follow me, for I also am going 
there.” 

“I have particular reasons,” continued Hector, “for not 
following the main road.” 

“That’s all right! The great road winds about, and we 
will take the short cuts. If my company is not disagreeable 
to you, let’s march.” 

“ Go ahead then 1 ” 


42 


TEE ROYAL CHASE. 


At the end of a hundred steps, the hermit took a path to 
the left, which led straight to the forest whose black mass 
barred the horizon. 

The dog trotted on one side, Hector walked on the other. 

While traversing the immense heath which separated 
them from the forest, the two travelers observed each other 
from the corner of the eye. Hector’s new companion was a 
vigorous man, above the middle stature, with square shoul- 
ders, and whose full countenance was lit up by small eyes, 
black and full of vivacity. ^He appeared to be forty years 
of age and walked with a firm step. 

“You said just now,” continued-the hermit addressing 
himself to Hector, “ that you had particular reasons for not 
following the main roads ? ” 

“My faith, my father,” replied Hector who did not find 
in the hermit’s countenance the impress of a ferocious aus- 
terity, “I will very willingly confess them to you, on con- 
dition that you do not make them the pretext for a ser- 
mon.” 

“Eh! my son, what man has the right to condemn his 
fellows ? Are we not all great sinners ? ” 

“Know then, my father, that I have fought a duel and 
given my adversary two good sword thrusts.” 

“ A duel at your age ? 

“ Age has nothing to do wdth it. Besides, my adversary 
very probably being dead at the present hour, reproaches 
will come a little late.” 

“ That is just,” said the hermit philosophically. 

“You now understand my preference for solitary roads.” 

“ Very well, and it is on this account also that you are 
armed with a gun and hunting knife ? ” 

“ Certainly ; if the police set out in pursuit of me, at least 
I can defend myself.” 

“If the police committed that imprudence, we would be 
two to reply to them.” 

“ What! you would aid me ? ” 

“Eh! why not? I have always liked brave and resolute 
young people.” 

“Thanks, father; but I imagine that with jmur stick, 
you would not cut much of a figure when you came in con- 
tact with sabres and guns.” 

“Oh! I have something besides the stick!” said the 
hermit, and, opening his robe, he showed to Hector two 
great pistols and a long knife suspended to a leather belt. 

“ Ah diable ! ” said Hector looking at the hermit, who ap- 
peared to him to have grown a cubit taller. 

“ Eh! my son, the country is very unsafe. There are so 
many people who attack the goods of the poor, that it is 
necessary to take precaution! ” added the hermit with a 
jovial air. 

“ Yours are of a respectable kind and do not suffer con- 
tradiction.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


43 


“ What would .you ? there are persons so headstrong that 
they do not hear reason, unless there are demonstrative 
proofs.” 

“ Is it also for protecting the welfare of the poor that you 
lead this dog by a leash ? ” 

“ Tu7'k! Oh! Turk serves me at night in my hermitage. 
It is he who guards it.” 

“There is then something to take in this hermitage ? ” 

“ Do you imagine that I am a hermit of the Theba'id 1 I 
have a virgin of massive silver who attracts pilgrims from 
twenty leagues around.” 

“ Imprudent ! And you have left without stationing Turk 
at home ? ” 

“ The virgin is with a jeweler at Avignon for repair. I 
am having her a new crown of gold put on.” 

“ With the goods of the poor ? ” 

“Still that! what comes from alms returns to heaven,” 
said the hermit with an air of compunction. 

The jovial humor of this hermit, who had a reply for 
everything, pleased Hector. We know that he did not love 
homilies, and the robe of the holy man had frightened him 
a little at first. Hector, rejoiced by the careless gaiety of 
his companion and reassured concerning the consequences 
of his journeying through the fields, thought, while walk- 
ing, that travel is an aj^'eeable thing and that one meets 
with some charming experiences. The open air, the novelty 
of the landscape which he was traversing, the movement, 
and, more than all this, the attraction of the unforseen and 
that inexpressible charm which one tastes in drifting with 
chance, stirred up his mind and made him joyful. The 
presence of Coq-Heron alone failed to his happiness. 

At dinner, the hermit drew from a knapsack which he 
carried on his back a quarter of roast lamb, and other eat- 
ables to appease the most obstinate hunger. He also pro- 
duced from a tin can under his robe a delicious little white 
wine. 

The provisions displayed upon the grass, the two guests 
sat down facing each other. 

“ But is not to-day Friday ? ” exclaimed Hector when the 
hermit started to carry a piece of ham to his mouth. 

“ I liave in my pocket a dispensation fronfSt. Peter in good 
form which authorizes me to get fat on my journey.” 

And he swallowed the piece of ham. 

The bottle passed from the hands of the one to the hands 
of tlie other, and the eatables disappeared with astonishing 
rapidity. 

“Since you are going to the Comtat,” continued the 
hermit, “why, before entering Avignon, do you not stop in 
my hermitage ? ” 

“ Is it upon my road ? ” replied Hector. 

“ Undoubtedly. At least you will repose there some hours. 
Your humor delights me, and if you have some disposition 


44 


THE BOYAL CHASE. 


to religious life, I will not hesitate, such esteem do I feel for 
you, to leave you the legacy of the hermitage.” 

Hector thanked the hermit as such an honest proposition 
desserved, but frankly declared to him that he had not the 
vocation. 

“That makes no difference, come anyway,” replied the 
holy man. 

“I do not ask better; but when will we arrive at our 
retreat ? ” 

“ To-morrow evening.” 

“Well! the thing is understood.” 

“ Let us put away the remains of our dinner and set out.” 


CHAPTEK yi. 

THE TOWER OF MONT VENTOUX. 

The next day, a little after nightfall. Hector and the her- 
mit, who had not ceased walking since morning, arrived on 
foot at Mont Ventoiix. 

“Behold us near Brantes,” said the hermit; “in some 
minutes we will be at my home. Do you see that light 
down there, upon that height ? The hermitage is there,” 

Hector looked with all his eyes at that blessed light which 
shone in the night like a beacon ; he trod a hospitable soil, 
and no longer had anything to fear in the future from the 
police. 

“Is there anyone at your home,” he asked the hermit. 

“ Two young brothers wiio consecrate themselves under 
me to the religious life. They know that I ought to return 
this evening, and they are expecting me.” 

At the end of a quarter of an hour the door of the hermit- 
age was reached, which appeared large enough to Hector 
and solidly built in stone. The liei mit struck at this door 
two rapid blow's, then a third and a fourth, slowly and at a 
sufficient interval from the first tw’o. 

“ Ahvays precautions! ” said Hector, w’ho had remarked 
this singular manner of striking. 

“They are necessary, my young friend, in a country as 
badly peopled,” replied the hermit shaking his head. 

A young boy opened the door and conducted the travelers 
to a low hall where a collation aw^aited the hermit. 

“Sit dowm there,” said the holy man ; “ here, when there 
is something for one there is something for tw^o.” 

Hector did not need to be asked twuce : he sat down. This 
collation was composed of game, of fruits and of Languedoc 
wines of two or three species. What had been prepared for 
one could suffice for four. 

“ The badly peopled country of which you spoke to me 
just now,” said Hector, “ produces, it seems to me, excellent 
things.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


46 


“ There are good souls who let me lack for nothing, it is 
true, but you must not Judge by appearances.” 

“So much the worse! the appearances are delicious,” re- 
plied Hector who was eating as if he enjoyed it. 

When the supper was over, the hermit wished Hector 
good evening and had him conducted, by one of the novices, 
to a very proper cell, in which there was a table, a bed, and 
two chairs. 

Hector, whom an extreme lassitude weighed down and 
whom the fear of being arrested no longer sustained, did 
not lose any time in getting to bed. An inexpressible sen- 
sation of comfort took possession of him as he stretched 
himself out between the white sheets ; sleep closed his eye- 
lids, and, blessing in his soul the hermit to whom he owed 
so good a lodging, he fell into a profound sleep. 

A ray of sunshine awoke him. That Joyous ray illumin- 
ated the room and danced upon his bed. Hector rubbed 
his eyes, leaped to the floor and ran to the window. Amag- 
niflcent spectacle was spread out before him. To his right, 
the mountain raised to heaven its summit crowned with 
snow ; at his feet, there opened an abyss whose declivity 
was strewed with ferns, arbutus, lavender, and rosemary. 
This slope terminated on the border of a plateau, whose in- 
clined surface stretched out till swallowed up by the ho- 
rizon. To the left, and in the distance, the houses of the vil- 
lage of Brantes showed their red roofs among the olive 
trees. These immense lands, undulating harmoniously, 
struck by the pure light of the morning, decorated here and 
there by the clumps of trees and projecting to boundless 
limits their flexible ^ lines, had a character of serene and 
austere beauty which struck Hector, in spite of his youth. 

Nevertheless as the sun had been above the horizon for 
an hour or two. Hector concluded to dress for going to sa- 
lute the hermit. While dressing, he remarked that his gun 
and hunting knife had disappeared during his sleep. Hec- 
tor thought they had been taken away for safe keeping ; 
nevertlieless, this discovery engaged him to make haste, in 
order to ask of the young boy who, on the evening before, 
had conducted him to the cell, what he had donelwith them. 
But when he wished to leave he found tliat tlie door was 
bolted on the outside. 

“ This is a very singular precaution,” thought he. 

He called once, twice, thrice : no one replied. 

Impatient, he ‘took one of the two chairs which orna- 
mented the cell and made use of it as a club to break down 
the door; but this door was made of strong oak planks 
dtudded with nails, and the prisoner soon perceived that he 
might strike a long time without damaging the panels. 

At the tenth blow, the door was still in tact, but the chair 
broke between Hector’s hands and fell into pieces. 

Hector had already taken possession of the second chair 
when a cat-hole in the door opened. 


46 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“At last! ’’said he recognizing the figure of his young 
guide. 

Tlie latter, without saying a word, placed his chin upon 
the cat-hole and waited. ^ 

The gravity of this movement made Hector lose a little of 
the patience which remained to him. 

“Come,” he exclaimed, “am I a prisoner? What has 
been done with my gun and knife ? Why has no one an- 
swered when I called ? I have been wishing to leave for an 
hour! Is the hermit ?at .prayers ? Open the door and lead 
me to him!” 

The novice listened tranquilly to this flow of words; but, 
instead of replying, he began to execute with the head, 
arms and hands, a multitude of signs whose signification 
escaped Hector’s intelligence. 

“What language is this!” exclaimed Hector, who fol- 
lowed with all his eyes the pantomime of his guide. Come 
— are you deaf ? ” 

The novice shook his head. 

“ Are you mute ? ” 

The boy bowed. 

“Well! go then to forewarn the hermit that I desire to 
speak to him.” 

The mute disappeared. 

Hector, left alone, sat down upon the only chair which re- 
mained to him and abandoned himself to reflections which 
were no longer gay. What kind of* a hermitage was it in 
wliich people were sliut up after having been despoiled of 
their arms, and in which one had to deal with mutes, 
as in the seraglio of the Grand Turk. These reflec- 
fleetions were kinder saddening Hector’s mind, when the 
noise of a key turning in the lock informed him that the 
hermit was entering his cell. 

“I believe, my young friend,” said the hermit after hav- 
ing carefully closed the door,” that you were beginning to 
get impatient. Ah! your blood is hot! ” 

“ Parbleu ! I should like to see you in my place. Instead 
of one chair, you would have broken four! ” 

“■ It wmiild have been difficult, since the cell only con- 
tained two in all.” 

“Two or four, it matters little!” replied Hector, who 
could not keep from smiling. 

“ That is just. Now that we are in accord as to the num- 
l)er, let us tranquilly make our explanations.” 

“ And promptly.” 

“ So be it. What do you desire ? ” 

“Firstly, I wish my arms, and then, I wish to leave.” 

“ Is that all ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, my young friend, we are going, if you permit it, 
to talk about all this. I have had no other design in mount- 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


47 


in" to your room. Give me that chair and place yourself at 
ease to listen to me.” 

This preamble and the sanf?-froid of the hermit stupefied 
Hector, who sat down upon the bed without replying. 

“ This hermitage, my young friend, does not resemble all 
hermitages,” said the hermit. 

” I believe you,” replied Hector. 

“ This belief does honor to your perspicacity. Here one 
finds oneself ill or well off, according as one takes things — 
aw’kwardly or gracefully.” 

“ Make known to me these things then, and I will know 
how to take them.” 

“You are going to be satisfied,” replied the hermit 
coughing like a man who is preparing a narration. 

He continued the discourse in these terms : 

“Such as you see me, I am the chief of an association of 
honest people who live on the product of their commerce. 
This commerce perhaps is not approved by the laws, but 
it is certainly very lucrative. You see that I am frank. We 
levy upon the great roads a tithe which permits travelers to 
afterward traverse them in full liberty; we aid the bour- 
geois to procure themselves at a low price prohibited mer- 
chandise, and, at need, we stamp money to aid in the circu- 
lation of coin so useful in a civilized kingdom, but only in 
the winter and when every other kind of industry becomes 
impossible.” 

“ That is to say that I have fallen into a band of robbers, 
mixed with smugglers and conterfeiters.” . 

“ Your substantives are perhaps a little crude, but I will 
not cavil about words. We will accept what you have said. 
All robbers as we are— I pass by the other qualities — we 
practice things honestly, and we lead a soft enough exist- 
ence. The tithes paid us and the other benefits which we 
draw from our divers industries are shared between the 
companions in equal portions.” 

“Between the chief robber and the robbers under him.” 

“ Eh ! my God, yes ! You see that it is here as in a repub- 
lic, only the chief takes three portions.” 

“ Very well ! ” 

“When there are no- expeditions, no merchandise to 
bi ing across the frontier, when we do not aid the king in 
the fabrication of money, each one of us does what he 
wishes with his time. Some employ it in sleeping, others 
in hunting, others still in gambling. There are some who 
deliver themselves to the study of the arts.” 

“Ah bah!” 

“We have among us two painters who make charming 
pastels — without counting a violinist of the first order, a 
fiute player and two singers who give us delicious little 
concerts. You will hear them.” 

“You overwhelm me.” 

“Oh! we have still other diversions.” 


48 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“Eeally!” 

“ Parbleu! do you take us for monks ? ” 

‘‘Not at all!” 

“ Some among us have anacreontic tastes ; when a pretty 
girl of the country pleases them, they carry her off.” 

“ It is a little bold.” 

“ Yes, but it is shorter; believe me, my young friend, the 
number is great of the women who wish to be treated like 
the Sabines.” 

“The doctrine is audacious.” 

“Experience has taught me it,” replied the hermit mod- 
estly; “when their conquerors, spurred on by the incon- 
stancy peculiar to human -nature, wish to pass to new ex- 
ploits—” 

“ They send away their victims.” 

“You go too fast! they take them back to their parents, 
monsieur, with some present for calming the griefs of the 
separation. It is necessary to have regard for the fair sex. 
It is a counsel which I give you and which will be profit- 
able to you.” 

“ You preach by example, and I will take care not to for- 
get it.” 

“We have besides a good table for gourmands, balls for 
dancers, dogs for the chase; in short, my young friend, we 
make gay our terrestrial journey as best\ve can.” 

“This is admirable,” replied Hector,, who had never 
heard a bandit speak in this way; “ but justice ? ” 

The good hermit burst with laughter at this word. 

“Justice!” he exclaimed, “it is easily to be seen that 
you do not know the Venaissin Comtat. It is a land of 
milk and honey for men of our stamp. Justice loves, es- 
teems, and protects us.” 

“ What! protection also ? ” 

“Undoubtedly! justice knows that we are brave fellows 
who wish the goods of others, but never the death of the 
sinner. If justice disturbed us, we might go away, and 
does she know by whom we would be replaced? o‘I)o not 
change your one-eyed horse for a blind one,’ says the Wis- 
dom of nations. Justice follows the counsel of wisdom, and 
in consideration of a duty which we pay to the vice-legate 
of the Pope, it leaves us perfectly free to continue our little 
commerce. On that side, my young friend, we have noth- 
ing to fear.” 

“That is very well, and behold a confidence for which I 
thank you much; but all this does not say why you have 
taken from me my arms and wTiy you keep me in this 
cell.” 

“INfethod is necessa.ry in everything.” 

“Come then, and endeavor oiily to abridge the method.” 

“Decidedly, you have an impatient humor! It is a de- 
fect, and you will have to have it corrected,” 

“To-day, I have not the time.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


49 


“The time will come, my young friend; but while wait- 
ing, and to please you, I abridge.” 

“Thanks,” said Hector bowing. 

The hermit returned Hector’s salute and took up again 
the thread of his narration ; 

“When I met. you on the heath, where you were seeking 
your road, your air pleased me. What you have related to 
me of your position has interested me. I soon perceived 
that you were an intelligent fellow. And I have always 
had a weakness for intelligent people; I have resolved 
then, while walking along, to offer you the privilege of en- 
tering our company.” 

Hector repressed a gesture of astonishment. 

“You are brave,” said the hermit, “your duel proves it 
— you have some address. I liave seen you bring down a 
wood hen at a hundred steps’ distance. I am sure that you 
will make your way among us.” 

In all this conversation. Hector had done violence to his 
indignation. At this last .phrase, he burst out. 

“Of what blood do you believe me,” he exclaimed, “to 
dare to make me similar propositions. I, a robber; I, your 
com^^anion! But know you well that if I had a weapon of 
some kind, I would break your head.” 

“Softly! my young friend, calm yourself.” 

“Calm myself, scoundrel! ” 

“ Eh! undoubtedly! Get rid of your anger and listen to 
me.” 

“ What have you yet to say ? ” said Hector with rage. 

“I have a proposition to make to you — it is my right; 
you refuse it — it is yours. Do not get vexed for so small a 
thing, so much the more that I still have two more to make 
you.” 

“Above all, make haste.” 

“Always impatient! Ah! how young you are! you say 
that you do not wish to join us ? ” 

“ Quite right.” 

“ Well — it will be necessary for you to indicate to me 
what you care least for — your tongue or your head.” 

Hector bounded at these words. 

“ My head or my tongue ? ” he exclaimed. 

“ The one or the other.” 

“Is it a pleasantry? ” 

“No! It is very serious, and you are going to under- 
stand it presently. In the first place sit down, you can 
listen to me more comfortably.” 

Hector, annihilated, fell back on the bed. 

“After the little confidences which I have made you— 
confidences rather compromising, you will acknowledge— 
it would not suit us to send you away as you have come. 
Such ,'i folly is not committed by those who have grown old 
in the harness. Arc you quite sure that you will never 
»speak of all that I have related to you wdth the cevudor 

ri 


50 


THE BOYAL CHASE. 


which is natural to me. Do not make haste to swear, I 
would not believe you. Women and wine always lead to 
indiscretions. And tlien considering the position in which 
your duel has placed you, you might be glad to purchase 
your pardon at the price of a revelation. This makes you 
indignant, and you contract your young eyebrows. Eh! 
niy brave falcon, men are men, and whosoever builds upon 
their honor builds upon the sand.” 

Hector repressed an impatient gesture, and the hermit 
pursued: 

“ We indeed have the vice-legate for us, but we are still 
afraid that your glorious King Louis XIV. may intervene 
in our little affairs, under pretext that we have sometimes 
crossed the Durance. Beside you know my taste for pre- 
cautions: from all that which precedes, the conclusion is 
eas}’’ to draw. You have entered my hermitage, you will 
no longer leave it; I had counted on our conversation end- 
ing better. You have not wished it, and I wash my hands 
of the result. ’Pon my word, I am vexed, for you please 
me much. But make your choice. If you persist in refus- 
ing to live among us, your head will be cut off, and your 
romance will be closM at the first chapter ; if you consent 
to take rank among our mutes — very well! your tongue 
will be cut off, and we will provide you with a silent but. 
comfortable existence. Speak, my friend.” 

“Did you think I would hesitate for a moment?” ex- 
claimed Hector, who, during the hermit’s long discourse, 
had twenty times desired to take him by the throat. 

“ Thus, your choice is made ? ” 

“Cut off my head and promptly, too.” 

“ You are going to be satisfied.” 

The hermit clapi)ed his hands ; the door opened, and two 
ba.ndits entered. One held a species of Turkish sabre in 
his hand, the other a bundle of slender and solid cords. 

They closed the door behind them and stopped upon the 
threshold. 

“ I only ask five minutes to pray,” said Hector. 

“I give you ten,” said the hermit. 

When he had finished, he turned toward the hermit. His 
eyes shone like diamonds. 

“Turn your face to the wall,” said the hermit. 

Hector dropped on one knee, head upright. 

“ Lower your head.” 

Hector raised his eyes to heaven for a second, then low- 
ered his head resolutely. 

The reflection of the sabre, upraised by the bandit, 
passed over the wall. Hector shivered and instinctively 
closed his eyes. 

A burst of laughter resounded behind him. 

The hermit laughed with all his heart, and the execu- 
tioner, arms crossed, held his sabre inclined, the point 
toward the ground,? 


THE ROYAL CHARE. 


51 


*‘My young friend,” said the hermit to Hector when he 
could breathe, “rise up and go to breakfast; we will take 
up again the conversation at dessert.” 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE hermit’s history. 

Hector followed the hermit, thoroughly stupefied ; he 
drank and ate like a man emerging from a frightful dream 
and who has not yet a very clear idea of the things which 
he hears and sees. 

As to the hermit, he used his teeth with the conscien- 
tious regularity and appetite of a man who has nothing to 
reproach himself with. 

When the breakfast, which, according to the hermit’s 
custom, wuis delicate and abundant, was finished, coffee 
and liquors were brought, after which the two guests re- 
mained Ute-h-tete. 

“My young friend,” said the hermit, w’ho, ensconced in 
a great fanteuil, was sipping his burning coffee, “you are 
evidently a brave fellow. Had I doubted it, this last trait 
would have dissipated all my doubts. Only acknowledge 
that I have passably played my role of relentless judge. 
My partner Biscot also made an admirable figure of a ras- 
cal, with his great sabre and his ill-natured countenance.” 

“ But wdiy all this comedy?” asked Hector, who had a 
strong desire of testing his head to assure himself that it 
was still on his shoulders. 

“Simply to prove you.” 

“What would have happened then had I offered my 
tongue.” 

“ It would have been refused, as your head was refused. 
Wfiiat do you suppose we would have done with it ? ” 

“ What you have done with that of the mute who, this 
morning, has spoken to me by signs.” 

“ This mute is a novice; his feet, eyes, and tongue are all 
good. As to you, my young friend, you would have been 
dispatched to another hermitage wiiere you w^ould have 
passed your time in meditating upon the vanity of the 
things of this world while brushing our clothes. Of what 
good is a man wiio is afraid ? ” 

“ That is just; but tell me, you have then several hermit- 
ages ? ” 

“ Half a dozen.” 

“Admirable!” 

“Eh! it is only a beginning, in the future we hope to 
have double that number.” 

“All of them in the Comtat? ” 

“ Here or elsewdiere. We intend to establish some in 
Italy ; the country is good. It only depends on you to have 
the direction of one of these houses.” 


52 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“ That proposition again ! ” exclaimed Hector. 

“Always, my j^oung friend. It is plainly to be seen that 
our acquaintance is quite fresh. If you are impatient, I 
am obstinate. And then our ideas will be modified Avith 
time. Of what is it a question, to sum up ? to do on a 
small scale what conquerors — who are called heroes at col- 
lege — do on a large. On this point education has given you 
many prejudices. I, Brother Jean, who speak to you have 
thought like you, but so long ago I scarce recollect it.” 

“ I am singularly flattered, and would be pleased to know 
what you thought then.” 

“ It is easy to satisfy you. It was twenty years ago, in 
1680. I Avas then a student at the university of Aix; I did 
Avith my time what the students of all countries do Avith 
theirs; tennis took the belter part of it, the rest Avent I 
knoAv not Avhere. NeA^ertheless I studied sometimes ; I even 
carried a Amlume of Virgil and Aristophanes in my pocket, 
along Avith cards and dice. How many times Meliboeus or 
Strepsiades have consoled me for an unlucky play at cards! 
A certain night, as Ave Avere playing faro with a Ilulcinea of 
the country, a Piedmontese officer, Avho Avas losing all his 
money and eA^en more, got in a rage ; Avoids Avere folloAved 
by bloAA's ; our heads Avere heated by Avine, so SAvords Avere 
unsheathed, and the Avomen fled shrieking; the candles fell 
snuffed out by the SAVords ; the fencing Avent on in the ob- 
scurity, and I mixed mj-self Avith the rest. When the light 
arrived to light up the field of battle, there Avas picked up 
from the floor the Piedmontese officer and a bourgeois of 
the town. Our escapade made some noise, the relatiA’es of 
the dead men cried out loudly and justice inteiwened. In 
the proAunce of Parliament, justice has alwaysi been very 
active; it was necessary to think of flying, and the same 
evening I left Aix on foot, carrying all my fortune in a 
handkerchief, like the philosopher Bias. I did not stop 
until I had reached the Pope’s territory. Then only did I 
breathe. A hermit Avhom I met took me to his home, near 
Mt. St. Jacques, not far from Cavaillon.” 

“ Kinder like my history fiA’e days ago.” 

“ Altogether so; but the result Avas not the same, as you 
are going to be convinced. The confidences Avhich the her- 
mit made me concerning the perquisites of his position 
gave me some taste for a cenobitical life. Besides I was 
without money or baggage. I acted then the devotee and 
put on a hypbcritical countenance, by the aid of Avhich I 
provided myself Avith all sorts of good certificates. After 
two or three years of novitiate, I undertook to establish 
myself as a hermit on my own account. There Avas then a 
hermitage Amcant at Mont Yentoux. I Avent there to ex- 
amine it. The hermitage appeared to me comfortable, vast, 
Avell situated in a solitary place, and altogether suitable to 
the trade Avhich I Avas going to take up. I at once asked of 
the Bishop of Vaisou, Avhose di,Qcese it is in, the permission 


• THE ROYAL CHASE. 


58 


to establish myself there ; he accorded it to me, aud I fixed 
myself here. Fortune threw in rny way a short time after 
a young man whose acquaintance*! had made at Aix. He 
was then a student, he had now become a smuggler. This 
perilous trade had thrown him in contact with an adven- 
turer who plundered upon the King’s highway; and, in an 
emergency, they mutually assisted each other. The student 
proposed to me to enter into relations with Captain Henriot 
— that was the adv’enturer’s name. I accepted : our first in- 
terview determined the basis of our association. It was 
agreed that my hermitage, whose situation in the midst of 
the rocks Captain Henriot admired, should serve as head- 
quarters for the troop and as a refuge in case of alarm. We 
shared the command together. By the aid of some money 
which was advanced to me, I had the windows barred, the 
doors bound with iron, the walls strengthened, in order, as 
I said to my flock, to be sheltered from nocturnal attacks. 
A tower, the true aim of which was concealed by a church 
bell, giving it the honest appearance of a steeple, finished 
by assuring to my hermitage the solidity of a little citadel. 
Captain Henriot withdrew from business twenty years ago; 
he was getting old, and his part in the benefits permitted 
him to live without work. Since then, I alone command 
our divers associates; our commerce prospers, and I can 
count upon an honest ease when the hour will come for me 
to relinquish my position to another. I will then purchase 
a little estate in the environs of Sorgues, whose situation 
pleases me, and I will finish my life between the wine which 
consoles and tlie Latin poets "whom I have always loved — 
Tibullus, Horace, Virgil, Catullus, and Juvenal.”* 

The biography of Brother Jean, of which Hector did not 
lose a word, gave him the leisure to collect his wits. He 
already knew that anger and menace glided over the soul 
of Brother Jean like water over a waxed surface; he had 
experienced their inutility, and Judged it prudent to re- 
nounce them. He contained himself and bowed in sign of 
assent, when the hermit had ceased to speak. 

“ Yours is a very curious history,” said he, and I admire 
through what series of events you have arrived from the 
University of Aix to the hermitage of Mont Ventoux; but. 
Brother jean, have I badly understood, or perchance have 
I understood rightly ? Have you not said that in your com- 
pany murder is not practiced ? ” 

“ That is it, and permit me to glory in it, one of the happy 
modifications which I have brought to our domestic rules.” 

“ Thus, you never kill ? ” 

“ You know the proverb, my young friend ; never and al- 
ways should not be used. When we are attacked, we must 
defend ourselves. A hermit is none the less a man.” 

“Then, why that formidable collection of guns, pistols, 
sabres and poniards ? ” 

“In politics it is a principle of guidance that when one 


54 


THE ROYAL CHASE. • 


wishes to have peace, it is necessary to prepare for war. It 
is thus that we do. Besides, it sometimes happens that we 
have to deal with recalcitrant gentlemen ; we are then 
forced to come to blows. But these vexatious encounters 
are rare, and we avoid them as often as we can.” ' 

Through love of peace ? ” 

“ And through respect for economy.” 

“ What do you mean by that ? ” 

“It is very simple. Each homicide is taxed a thousand 
crowns, except wdien it is a question of a personage of some 
rank, the cost to the society is then six thousand livres.” 

“ And do you think that a little dear for your means ? ” 

“ Precisely. Do you know that we pay six thousand 
crowns of imports to the Vice-Legate, without counting 
casualties.” 

“ It is a great deal for a hermitage.” 

“ It is too much. But what sacrifices would one not make 
to be permitted to live tranquilly ? ” 

Brother Jean finished by swallowing his third little glass 
of Cognac and rose up, his complexion purple, his ears red 
and his countenance smiling. 

“ Now, my young friend, that you know our existence as 
well as myself, would it please you to visit our establish- 
ment ? ” 

“ Willingly.” 

Brother Jean opened the door and went out, follow^ed by 
Hector. They traver.sed together a vaulted room which 
opened upon an outer court. This court, enclosed by a 
thick w^all, to the summit of which one arrived by slow' de- 
grees, overlooked the country. It surrounded the hermit- 
age on three sides, tlie fourth side being protected by a 
precipice. In this court, planted with fig and almond trees, 
there yawmed in the sunshine three dogs of the size and 
species of Turk. As to Turk, he slept like a satrap in the 
shade. Brother Jean remarked to Hector that certain 
stones voluntarily detached themselves from the wall and 
that the cavities which they left might serve, if occasion 
demanded, for loop-holes. The tower, almost thirty feet 
high, crowmed the hermitage and overlooked all the coun- 
try. A sentinel watched unceasingly in the turret of thik# 
tower. A marvelous order reigned in all parts of the edi- 
fice ; tapers burnt in the chapel, and the wooden cross sur» 
mounted the portico. 

“You see, my young friend,” said Brother Jean, “his 
eminence the Vice-Legate might come in person to pay us 
a pastoral visit; everything is in its place, from my beard 
to my lay brother, and he could only address eulogies to 
us.” 

Hector did not reply, but if a pistol had been in reach, he 
would have blown out this rascal’s brains. 

Toward evening, Hector was conducted back to his cell. 
“Sleep tranquilly,” the hermit said to him, “you will 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


make your reflectious to-morrow morning, and, toward 
noon, I will come to know your decision.” 

Hector went to bed, but too many diverse sentiments agi- 
tated his soul for sleep to come to him. His pulse beat "as 
if he had a fever; a burning warmth stifled him ; he thought 
that the freshness of the air would calm his blood; he rose 
up and leaned out at the window. The serene moon swam 
in the cloudless sky, and the sleeping landscape reposed in 
the silence of the night. Hector looked at the horizon 
bathed in a limpid glow, at tlie uncultivated fields whose 
outlines were lost in the transparent waves of an uncertain 
light, at the effaced houses of Brantes which were revealed 
by some sparks shining for a moment in immensity, and 
new thoughts assailed his young heart. After a happy 
childhood, the first bitterness of life presented to his yo^lth 
its inexhaustible chalice. He had scarcely made some 
steps and already inquietude and suffering had come to him 
on every hand. He was alone at an age when others grew 
up under a father’s care. What then was this existence 
which he had di;eamed of as active and stormy, but beauti- 
ful and joyous, and which, at the outset, showed him theft, 
murder, and impudence under the features of a bandit ? A 
profound discouragement invaded his entire being; his 
heart swelled under the wave of an immense sadness which 
mounted like the tide. Filled with that secret fright which 
takes possession of souls at the moment when life. and 
action seize them. Hector raised his eyes toward Heaven. 
The spectacle of nature in its implacable serenity, touched 
him and frightened him at the same time ; a tear born on 
the border of his eyelid, trembled suspended to his lashes, 
and glided along his cheek where the palor of death suc- 
ceeded to the ardent blush of fever. 

“ O my father! my father! ” he murmured, and he con- 
cealed his head between his hands in order to keep from 
seeing the impassable moon smile in the night. 

He had made the sacrifice of his life to chance, and 
chance would have none of him. Then he recalled the 
dying words of his father. At first Hector had marched in 
his career like a bullet, it now remained to him to glide 
through obstacles like a river which rounds promontories 
traced by hills and hollows out its bed in the valleys. 
After the straight line came the curved line. Hector re- 
volved this project in his head some time, delivering to the 
humid and cold breath of the night his forehead and his 
floating hair. These hours given to meditation, this ap- 
prenticeship in abandonment had aged his mind by ten 
3^ears. 

When the first milky tints of day whitened the atmos- 
phere, he quitted the window where the cold iced him and 
regained his bed. His eyes gave way to sleep and he slept 
with a heavy and troubled sleep. AVTicn, at noon. Brother 
Jean entered the prisoner’s cell, an ardent fever consumed 


56 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


Hector. This fever kept him in bed for several days, but 
at the end of a week, the fever fell and he recognized those 
who surrounded him. They were Brother Jean and Biscot. 

“ At last! ” said Brother Jean, “ I thought, God pardon 
me, that you would not get over it! ” 

“Where am I?” asked Hector as if emerging from a 
dream. 

“Still at the Tower of Mont Ventoux.” 

Hector’s head fell back upon the pillow. 

“ My young friend,” continued the hermit, “ if I have a 
counsel to give you, it is not to contract fever too often. 
Another trial of this kind and your adventures might end.” 

At the end of the following week, thanks to his robust 
constitution. Hector was fully convalescent. 

“ My young friend,” Brother Jean said to him the first 
day he could rise up, “thank Biscot here. If once on a 
time he just missed cutting off your head, he has made up 
for that peccadillo by saving your life.” 

“ My life ? ” exclaimed Hector. 

“ Yours. For eight days you were in a devilish critical 
condition. What blood have you in your veins ? It is 
quicksilver! Three times you have wished to throw your- 
self through the window ; you seemed to especially insist 
on it. Three times Biscot has brought you back by force 
to your bed. W^'hence comes this singular taste for aerial 
voyages ? ” 

Hector smiled and made a friendly sign of the head to 
Biscot. 

“Eh!” exclaimed Brother Jean, “our patient is saved ! 
Bun to the cellar. Biscot, my friend, and take two or three 
bottles of the best wine ; chose among the four largest of 
those which we have taken from the butler of the Arch- 
bishop of Aix, I am going to drink my protege’s health.” 

Hector did not wink ; an epithet more or less could not 
frighten him ; his part was taken. 

“By the way,” added Brother Jean when Biscot had 
brought the bottles, “ have you reflected, my young 
friend ? ” 

“ Ypc? 

“Well?” 

“I accept.” 

Brother Jean clapped his hands. 

“This is to act and speak like an intelligent fellow,” he 
exclaimed; “I well knew that you would come to us; a 
man of your stamp is not made to remain a long time under 
the yoke of prejudices.” 

“ Biscot,” continued Brother Jean after having emptied 
a glass of wine destined to the Archbishop of Aix, “ I aban- 
don, in favor of this happy event, the part which reverted 
to me from ourlast capture, and I wish a great feast to take 
place this evening.” 

Biscot, at the height of joy, disappeared like a flash. At 


THE ROYAL CHARE. 


57 


the •nd ©f ai moment, the acclamations which saluted the 
good news brought by Biscot were heard. 

“ My men are rejoicing,” continued Brother Jean ; “ we 
will do the same, if God lends us life, and he will lend it to 
us.” 

“It is indeed the least that he owes us,” replied Hector, 
who wished to gain his host’s confidence. 

“ You do not know how your resolution delights me. 
Really! I do not know what I w’^ould not have done to keep 
you. May you thank me one day for being obstinate 1 ” 

“ I hope I may! ” 

“We will get rich together, and when we have spare 
time, we will translate the old poets, my favorites.” 

“ To speak frankly, I am not a good Latin scholar.” 

“So much the better! I will teach you that divine lan- 
guage. Ah ! my friend, what Joy to read the eclogues in the 
shade of the beech-trees. My associates are very worthy 
fellows, but they are not cultured. I know of but two or 
three — the artists— with whom you can talk with pleasure ; 
and they are not alw^ays in reach. You bring a new ele- 
ment to our society— the element of conversation.” 

“I am glad to know it.” 

“ I also intend to teach you a little Greek.” 

“Greek also?” 

“ Yes, in order to be able to compare Horace with Pindar.” 

Brother Jean talked some time in this fashion, and it re- 
sulted from the conversation and the perspective which he 
opened to Hector’s vision, that never Athenian philosophers 
dreaming on the shores of the ^gean Sea, sages meditating 
under the sacred shade of the olive woods, epicureans 
asleep upon the banks of the Naxos, lived a more happy 
life under the benevolent eyes of the immortal Gods, than 
they lived in their academy of Mont Ventoux. 

A few days after this conversation, Hector w^as in condi- 
tion to w’alk; Brother Jean had him to take some turns in 
the neighborhood, graduated according to the return of 
his strength; soon after they gave him back his arms, but 
at first they took great care to not let him go out except in 
company with two or three associates, and even then they 
ventured but a short distance. One day Brother Jean 
warned Hector— with whom, since his illness, he li\’^d on 
the best of terms— that he counted to leave that evening 
on a lucrative expedition, wnth a dozen of his associates. 

“ You will go with us,” added the hermit. 

“ Very well,” said Hector. 

“Therefore, hold yourself in readiness.” 

“ The expedition will be very lucrative, I do not doubt, 
since it is you who direct it, but will it be perilous ? ” 

“Bah! we are going to borrow from the owner of the 
Chateau de Bonneval the farm produce which he is to re- 
ceive to-day ; the servants will cry out and that will be all 
—but why this question ? ” 


58 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“Because I have discharged my gun this morning at a 
kite and will load again if it is necessary.” 

“ Load again, my young friend, it is a precaution which 
never hurts.” 

About ten o’clock, they set out. Hector had decided to 
this time reconquer his liberty no matter what happened. 
He had promised this to himself, and he left the hermitage 
thoroughly lesolved to return there no more. The time 
was toward the end of the month of May, during the long- 
est days of the year. The night had, thanks to the stars 
scintillating in the sky, the clearness of twilight. Brother 
Jean was niadl}^ gay. 

“Does it not seem to you that we are Thessalian shep- 
herds in quest of their sheep lost upon Mount Olympus ? 
or young Spartans going to the Pythic games to dispute 
the prizes of the coit and spear? ” 

Hector gaily replied to all these discourses and waited 
impatiently for an occasion to escape through the fields. 
Nevertheless, as they had supped before starting and talked 
freely, they perceived at day-break that they had lost their 
course. They could not think of retracing their steps to 
attack the Chateau de Bonneval in broad daylight. It was 
necessary to seek a lodging where the troop could wait for 
nightfall : this lodging was found in a wood near Car})en- 
tras, where Brother Jean conducted his associates. The 
wood bordered a road favorable to the interception of trav- 
elers. 

When the sun was high, the bandits extended themselves 
upon the grass, in the shade; Brother Jean stationed two 
sentinels to avoid all surprise, and the entire troop, over- 
come by the heat, went into a profound sleep without any 
delay. Hector, who had appeared to be one of the first to 
go to sleep, opened his eyes ; he was leaning against an oak, 
a carbine on his knees. Without moving his head, he 
looked around him. Everywhere the respiration of the 
sleepers was to be heard, their breasts heaving regularly. 
The occasion so long awaited appeared to have fully come. 
He silently loaded his carbine so as to be read.y in case of 
alarm; and getting down on his knees and hands began to 
crawl in the midst of the extended robbers. 

Brother Jean occupied one of the extremities of this im- 
j)rovised bivouac; extended upon the thick grass, he 
slept with his head supported upon his arms. His breast 
heaved and fell regularly; indolent and tranquil, you 
might have said he was an antique fawn surprised by 
sleep at the moment he was watching for a nymph at the 
passage. 

Hector stopped a moment to contemplate this bold ras- 
cal. 

“This gives the lie to the sleep of the just! ” he said to 
himself. 

Drawing then a slip of paper from his pocket, he wrote 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


59 


with the aid of a crayon some words which he signed with 
his name, then having suspended the paper to a bush, he 
again took up his serpentine advance. 

He had made about lift}’ steps when he perceived one of 
the robbers seated upon the turf, his back against a tree. 

Hector recognized Biscot and placed his hand upon the 
trigger of his carbine. But having remarked, at the end 
of some seconds, the profound immobility of Biscot, he 
again advanced in his course. 

Biscot, with closed eyes, his chin upon his breast and his 
hands crossed devoutly on his knees, imitated the captain’s 
example. 

“Sleep, my brave Biscot,” murmured Hector, “I should 
not like to have blown out your brains, you who played so 
tragically a comic role. Let your great sabre repose in 
peace in its scabbard, and may God permit me to pay jmu 
back some day for the fear which you have caused me to 
experience.” 

Biscot did not reply for he did not hear. He snored and 
moved not. At the end of thirty steps Hector rose up on 
his feet, and ran toward the road, which he promptly 
reached. 


CHAPTER' VIII. 

ORESTES AND PYLADES. 

Hector had not made five hundred steps in the direction 
of Carpentras, when he perceived a two-horse carriage 
which was rapidly advancing toward him. He ran in front 
of the carriage, apd cried to the coachman to stop. 

The coachman, who was expecting nothing less than to 
meet a man armed to the teeth, began to whip his horses 
with one hand and to restrain them with the other. The 
result was that they reared and plunged, and finally the 
whip escaped from the coachman’s hands. 

A gentleman now put his head out of the window, and 
looked around to see what was passing. A little girl with a 
childlike countenance also examined the adventurer with a 
frightened air. Hector having politely approached, took 
off his hat and saluted. 

“Monsieur,” said he in a slightly breathless voicej “do 
not go farther; a troop of robbers is in the wood at the 
end of the road.” 

The gentleman looked his interlocutor from head to foot, 
and drawing a large pistol he showed its black tube through 
the window. 

“Monsieur,” he replied, “you appear to know too well 
the robbers of whom jmu speak, and that is why if you 
make another step I shall blow out your brains.” 

Hector found this thanks very strange, and was going to 


60 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


get vexed, when he recognized by the inspection of his per* 
son, that he still wore the uniform of the profession, a carbine 
upon his shoulder, a belt loaded with poniards and pistols, 
with a hunting knife at his side. 

“ Monsieur,” said he blushing, “ I am not what you sup- 
pose. You will be convinced later. Turn back. Here are 
my arms; if I deceive you, at the first suspicion you will 
be free to blow out my brains.” 

Hector spoke with an extreme volubility ; while speaking 
he had detached his arms and presented them to the gen- 
tleman who looked at him attentively. Hector’s air and lan- 
guage astonished him. 

“Mount, Monsieur,” he continued, “and keep your 
arms.” 

A lackey opened the door and Hector jumped in. 

“Turn round!” he exclaimed to the coachman. 

The coachman did not have to be ordered twice, and his 
whip having been returned to him by a lackey, he left more 
quickly than he had come. 

The carriage contained three persons; the gentleman, 
who appeared to be fifty years of age, a little girl who was 
eight or ten at most, and an old governess. Two lackeys 
accompanied the carriage, each armed with a musket and 
a sword ; but by their countenances and the looks which 
they threw behind them, it was to be seen that they would 
not have cut a gallant figure in case of attack. 

Hector explained how he had got into the company of 
bandits, and they arrived at the chateau near Carpentras, 
without accident. 

“ Monsieur,” said the gentleman to Hector, as soon as 
they had descended, “accept my regrets for tlie words which 
I addressed to you at our meeting; my excuse is the 
strangeness of tliis encounter and the greater strangeness 
of your costume. I am M. de Blettarius, and if I can be 
of any service to you, dispose of me.” 

Hector gave his name, and the acquaintance thus made, 
they supped gaily. 

M. de Blettarius induced Hector to remain over night at 
the chateau. Confidences were exchanged between them. 
M. de Blettarius told how he had quitted Provence to avoid 

S ersecution for the part he had taken in the troubles of the 
Regency. 

“It appears,” he added, “that the King’s party still re- 
collects me, though I have been completely forgotten by the 
Princes’ party to which I belonged. Were it not for my 
little girl, I would take service with a foreign prince where 
I might have a chance to get killed while making war 
against the Turks.” 

As to the little girl, she had conceived for her father’s 
guest a singular friendship, which she showed in a thou- 
sand charming fashions. She went and came unceasingly, 
bringing him the most beautiful flowers of the garden and 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


61 


the best fruits of the orchard, smiling to him when he 
spoke, and making him gay with her expansive babble. 

The two men had become tirm friends by the end of the 
supper and in spite of the difference in their ages. Hector 
had the ardor and confident audacity which youth gives, 
and at the. same time that promptness in action and that 
firmness of thought which are born of dangers traversed. 
M. de Blettarius had the serenity of a man who, having 
seen many events, has resigned himself to submit to the 
things which he can not prevent. His was a calm, reflec- 
tive, blit resolute mind: he smiled at Hector’s sanguine 
hopes, knowing well that experience and sadness would 
always come soon enough. They separated late at night, 
after having embraced like a father and son who see each 
other after a long separation. When Hector awoke, it had 
been broad day for some time ; he opened the window and 
breathed in the fresh air with an indefinable delight. He 
felt better than he had felt for some time. Nature appeared 
to him more beautiful, the emanations of the earth made 
warm by the springtime appeared more sweet, the air more 
delightful to his lips, and, full of laughing ideas, he went 
down into the garden where M. de Blettarius’ daughter was 
running over the grass, more pretty, more gay and more 
lively than a lark in the furrows. His host kept him till 
noon, but it was then necessary to separate. 

“I have offered you nothing, because the house and all 
that it contains are yours,” M. de Blettarius said to him, 
“ if however something — ” 

Hector made haste to interrupt M. de Blettarius. With 
one hand he touched his sword and with the other he 
pointed to heaven. M. de Blettarius understood this gest- 
ure and smiled. 

“Go,” said he, “and may God protect you ! Neverthe- 
less,” he added, “ I should have been pleased to leave you 
a souvenir of our meeting.” 

“Well!” replied Hector, “you can accord me a favor 
which w'ill never be effaced from my memory.” 

“Speak — you are the master here.” 

Hector pointed out to M. de Blettarius his daughter who 
was extended on a sofa where sleep had surprised her. It 
was a charming picture. 

“ Her you permit me to embrace Christine ? ” Hector 
asked. 

M. de Blettarius signified assent, and Hector, softly ap- 
proaching the little girl, leaned over and embraced her on 
the forehead. Christine half opened her eyes, smiled, 
closed them again, placed one of her arms around her 
friend’s neck, and, moving her lips, which, were like a rose 
in flower : 

“Adieu. You will return,” said she. 

Hector again kissed the fresh forehead of the child, and 


62 


THE ROYAL CHASE, 


when he tiiroed again to M. de Blettarius, a tear trembled 
between his eyelids witiioiit his knowing why. 

“ It is now my turn to ask of you something,” said M. de 
Blettarius. 

“ Of me ? ” 

“I warn you that a refusal would offend me.” 

“ You need not dread one on my part.” 

“You have a hunting knife which pleases me; give it to 
me and accept this sword in return. *It will result from this 
that you can never draw it without thinking of me.” 

M. de Blettarius presented to Hector a sword with a large 
and flexible blade encased in a scabbard of yellow leather. 
It was indeed the arm that a soldier needed, of a flue qual- 
ity -and simple workmanship. Hector took it and buckled 
it to his waist. 

A horse awaited him in the court, M. de Blettarius not 
having wished him to go on foot to Avignon. Two lackeys 
were to serve him for escort. The horses neighed impa- 
tiently while pawing the ground with their feet; the air was 
pure, a fresh breeze shivered coquettishly among the 
branches of the trees, the arms sparkled in the sunshine, 
the country smiled like a fresh peasant girl who has decor- 
ated herself in her finest attire. Hector embraced his host 
and leaped gaily into the saddle. The lackeys indicated a 
path through the fields more direct than that which the 
wagoners followed; Hector entered it, and five minutes 
after, the hospitable chateau of M. de Blettarius disap- 
peared behind a curtain of poplars. 

Hector tested his horse’s speed by a two mile gallop. He 
was only a few minutes making it. 

The exercise and the open air had put Hector in a fine 
humor; he followed a pretty road wliose margins, carpeted 
with moss and studded with wild poppies, undulated like 
snakes through the fields. Here and there some willows 
raised their green heads on the border of the road ; hedges 
of hawthorn and elder in flower shaded it with their foilage 
and embalmed it with their odors; at times small streams 
caressed its sinuosities with their silver lips, shivered upon 
a bed of pebbles and disappeared behind a promontory of 
turf; further on great plane trees formed for this Tittle 
road a vault of thick branches, while a cottage, concealed 
between their trunks, saluted Hector by the voice^pf the 
vigilant cock; old women, seated on the threshold of their 
cabins, sent to the cavalier their kindly adieus, and little 
boys, frightened and joyous, laughingly accompanied him 
as far as their legs could carry them. 

Never had Hector felt as lively and so confident; he was 
going to rejoin Coq-Heron, quite sure tliat Coq-Herou would 
be waiting for him. Besides he heard beating against his 
spiirs the scabbard of a good and long sword, he still felt 
upon his lips the fresh and soft impression of the kiss 
which he had taken on Christine’s forehead, a valiant horse 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


63 


pranced between his legs and hope opened to his dreams 
its magnificent perspectives. What failed him, and what 
thing could he desire ? He had in his pocket some money 
which he had carried away from the Chateaii-des-Dames 
and which Brother Jean had left him; Hector gave it to 
the poor along the road, keeping only some double louis for 
the lackeys. At the city gates, the two lackeys saluted him. 
Hector slipped his two* double louis into their hands and 
started to get down from the horse ; the lackeys took the 
gold, but prevented the cavalier from quitting the saddle. 

“ It is the will of M. de Blettarius that you keep this 
horse,” said one of them. 

“But—” 

“ He would drive us away, if we brought it back,” the 
other added interrupting Hector. 

“ Tell your master,” he said to the lackey, “that I will 
make his horse see a vast amount of country.” 

“We will take care not to forget it.” 

“ And that it \vould be to fail in all that which I owe toM. 
de Blettarius, if I neglected to expose the horse and its 
rider to every peril.” 

The lackeys assured Hector that his requests should be 
fulfilled, and, having saluted him, turned back again. 

Hector gaily entered Avignon and pushed straight on to 
the Pope’s palace, before which he had given rendezvous to 
Coq-Heron ; he made the the tour of the place and ^aw no 
one. 

Hector, some little surprised, directed his course toward 
a hostelry whose sign represented a great 5"ellow bird flap- 
ping its wings, with this device ; Au Faisan d’or. A boy rose 
up from a stone bench and ran to him. 

“Monsieur,” said he taking off his cap, “have you not 
given rendezvous to a cavalier at this place.” 

“ Precisely.” 

“ In that case. Monsieur, follow me ; the cavalier is out 
walking and has ordered me to conduct your lordship to 
his lodging.” 

“ I was sure of it,” murmured Hector. 

And aloud he said : 

“ This cavalier sometimes goes out walking, does he ? ” 

“ Every day.” 

“ Ah ! And what does he do the rest of the time ? ” 

“ He breakfasts, dines, sups and sleeps.” 

“ Afterward ? ” 

“ Afterward he waits for your lordship, seated upon that 
little bench from which I have risen at your approach. 
Sometimes he has his great horse saddled and leaves for a 
iourney of three or four days, after which he returns, asks 
if any one has called for him in his absence, and upon re- 
ceiving the inn-keeper’s reply, he sends his horse to the 
stable and has his dinner served.” 

“ Behold a good custom for the Faisan d’or.” 


64 


THE IlOYAL (JHAEE. 


“ Good enough, Monsieur, so much the more that there 
is always a sou for the boy.” 

The boy looked at the hour marked by a great wooden 
clock placed in the vestibule. 

“Sit down there, Monsieur, this is the hour when the 
cavalier is accustomed to return ; he will show himself 
pretty soon.” 

Hector had not been seated two minutes when he sa-w the 
gigantic form of Coq-Heron at the end of the place. Coq- 
Heron walked with a sad air. The poor fellow, though 
prodigiously thin in former times, seemed to have grown 
thinner still. He advanced slowly without looking at any 
one, like a man whom habit brings back to the places where 
hope does not conduct him. When Coq-Heron wuis at some 
steps from the hostelry. Hector rose up. This sudden 
movement attracted the visual ra}’ of Coq-Heron. In spite 
of the obscurity which commenced to reign over the place, 
he recognized Hector, bounded forward and taking his 
pupil’s head in his hands, embraced him with an effusion 
which, better than any speech, told all that the old soldier 
had suffered. Hector disengaged himself as quickly as he 
could, and, throwing his arms around Coq-Heron’s neck, 
gaily returned his w^elcome. 

“ Here I am, my old Coq,” he said to him, “ and this time, 
whatever happens, we will alw^ays stick together.” 

Coq-Heron dried with his sleeve the great tears which 
flowed* over his tanned cheeks, like drops of rain over 
leather, and preceding Hector, conducted him to his apart- 
ment with demonstrations of such profound respect and 
zeal, that the host and his boys did not doubt but what an 
illustrious personage had arrived at the sign of the FaiFsan 
cVor. Before sitting down to table, Hector, like a soldier 
who wished to- try himself in the trade of arms, descended 
to the stable, to see if his horse shared the same attention 
as his master. 

A boy was about to take off the saddle; Coq-H^ron, while 
examining the harness, unbuckled one of the straps, drew 
forth a pistol and caused a brilliant object to fall upon the 
floor of the stable. 

“Eh! really, it is a louis! ” said Coq-Heron, picking up 
the piece of gold. 

“ A louis ? ” exclaimed Hector. 

“ Look yourself.” 

“ Parbleu ! I did not know that I was so rich.” 

Cop-H6ron, while his master was turning over the gold 
piece between his fingers, plunged his hands into one of the 
receptacles and drew forth a handful of similar pieces. 

“ Faith, Monsieur, we needs must believe that fortune 
comes to you while traveling.” 

“ It is certainly astonishing! ” 

“ At least you can tell me who it comes from,” said Coq- 
Heron. / ^ 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


65 


“It comes to me,” said Hector moved, “from a gentle- 
man who has wished to render me a service without speak- 
ing of it.” 

“ This gentleman must certainly have seen a great many 
iniis, since he knows so well what it costs to travel. Tell me 
his name so that I can inscribe it on iny tablets.” 

As soon as the supper was served, Coq-Heron,, arming 
himself with a napkin, sent away the boy, and after having 
listened to Hector’s narrative, lie swore by the gods that 
he would cut off Brother Jean’s ears anywhere he should 
meet him. Coq-Heron then related the results of Hector’s 
duel, what cries Madame de Yersaillac had uttered, when 
some peasants had brought in the bleeding form of Her- 
nandez; what oathes she had taken to pursue his murderer 
to the end of the world ; how he, Coq-Heron, having re- 
ceived Hector’s letter, had left carrying away all the specie 
he had and how he would have waited for him till Judg- 
ment day. 

“For some time I had lost hope,” added Coq-H4ron,” 
“but I had not lost patience. Living, you could not fail to 
return ; dead, what business had I elsewhere ? ” 

“And the Abbe ? ” Hector asked. 

“ When I left the chateau he was about to give up his 
ugly soul to God ; he must have died some time ago.” 

“ Then I pardon him! ” said Hector. 

Coq-H6ron did not reply, and they were silent for a mo- 
ment. 

“ The dead are dead 1 let us think of the living,” continued 
the soldier. “ What do you count on doing now ? ” 

“ To see the world and make war.” 

“ That is soon said.” 

“ And still more easy to practice.” 

“Ah! you think so!” exclaimed Coq-Heron who, now 
that fears no longer tormented him, fell softly back into his 
habit of contradiction ; “ ah ! you think—” 

As he was going to demonstrate the impossibility of 
traversing the world, a great noise, which came from the 
outside, suddeiily interrupted him. Hector ran to the 
window, and having opened it, discovered a strange spec- 
tacle. A crowd of people invaded the place, in the midst of 
which an officer of the Vice-Legate, mounted upon a mule, 
and followed by guards, one of which bore the papal ban- 
ner, agitated with his right hand a fold of parchment, from 
which hung a seal of led wax attached by silk ribbons. 
There was a great press all around the escort which was 
hard pushed to maintain a little order among this turbulent 
populace. After calm had been slightly re-established, the 
officer of the Vice-Legate read in a strong voice a papal 
bull, by wliich the Holy Father announced that the Church 
having need of troops to defend the hejeditary domain of 
St. Peter, there was promised to every captain who would 
take, service with his company, a monthly stipend of two 
5 


66 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


hundred crowns, and to each soldier who enlisted four 
crowns a month, besides a gift which would accompany the 
disbanding of the troops. 

This proclamation followed by a thousand fanfares, 
seemed suddenly to awaken the warlike humor of the most 
pacilic city of the world; hats flew up into the air, the 
people cried that they wished to exterminate the Pope’s 
enemies, and they began to dance farandoles before the 
Vice-Legate’s palace. 

Hector turned to Coq-Heron and said ; 

“ This suits me, and in eight days I will be a captain in 
the service of His Holiness Clement XI., if we can raise a 
company, as we certainly can.” 


CHAPTEK IX. 

SOLDIERS OF THE POPE. 

Scarcely had Hector spoken of raising a company, than 
Coq-Heron, crossing his long arms upon his breast, began 
to walk the apartment. 

“Very well,” said he, “and it is a magniflcent idea : un- 
fortunately it is impracticable.” 

“ And why ? ” exclaimed Hector. 

“ For ten reasons.” 

“ Give me one of them.” 

“I can give you a hundred.” 

“ Come.” 

“ Because for raising a company, even if it contained only 
fifty men, it w^ould be necessary to have three times as much 
money as we already have.” 

“ How much is there left of our little treasure ? ” 

“Almost a thousand crowns.” 

“ A thousand crowns and M. de Blettarius’ hundred louis 
which I have there in my purse, make five to six thousand 
livres.” 

“ It is nothing.” 

“And I who thought that all this was worth something! ” 
said Hector displaying the gold pieces on the table. 

Coq-Heron advanced his lips with supreme disdain. 

“Behold already a lack of money,” he continued, “but 
that is not all yet.” 

“ It is already too much.” 

“ Had we the money for raising the men, it would still be 
necessary for us to find men, and in this country there is 
nothing but monks.” 

“Really!” 

“Look!” continued Coq-Heron pointing out to him a 
society of penitents who were passing by. 

“The devil! this is an inconvenience of which I had not 
thought.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


67 


‘‘There are many others.” 

“Still more?” 

“ And the commission ! had you the company well armed 
and well equipped, can I, Coq-Heron, guarantee you a com- 
mission, to you, Marquis de Chavailles, wlio have killed an 
abbe!” 

“ I assure you that I had forgotten it.” 

“ Oh! I do not doubt it! but the world does not go as you 
believe, and it does not suffice to say ; ‘I wish something, 
to have everything.’ ” 

Hector lowered his head and let the torrent pass; but 
Coq-H4ron, fatigued by the violence even of his discourse, 
began to grow calm. Hector rose up. 

“Well!” said he affecting a conviction which he had 
not, “ since it is an impracticable project, let us no longer 
think of it.” 

At this proposition, Coq-Heron curled his moustache. 

“No longer to think of it,” he exclaimed, “ behold then 
how you take things.” 

“And what do you wish me to do, since it is impossi- 
ble ? ” 

“ Impossible is, at your age, a word which your father 
never pronounced. Impossible ! how do you know it, if you 
have not tried it ? ” 

“ What’s the good of it ? ” replied Hector with an air of 
profound discouragement. 

“ I tell you that it is always good for something, were it 
only to prove that we are wrong.” 

“ Bah! there are insurmountable reasons.” 

“ When there are obstacles, one passes over them.” 

“ And break your head ! ” 

“One breaks nothing at all, and if one succeeds, ven- 
trebleu! ” said Coq-Heron who began to mount to the point 
where Hector wished to bring him. * 

“Do what you please, I shall not concern myself about 
it.” 

“ At your ease; but if you count on making your way in 
the world while growing frightened at the least difficulties, 
you will not go far.” 

“ At least I shall not fatigue myself uselessly.” 

“ And who says that my pains will be useless ? ” 

“ But what can one do with five or six thousand livres ! ” 

“In the first place, put it at eight thousand ; for I have 
there fifty louis of which I had not thought.” 

“Behold a beautiful reinforcement.” 

“Monsieur, with eight thousand livres it is not a com- 
pany that I wish to raise, it is a battalion ! ” 

“ In a country of monks ? ” 

“So much the better, we will make soldiers of them ! ” 

“Then you will get my name breveted, for as for my- 
self ” 

“Because you have almost killed an abb^. But the in- 


68 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


dulgences, Monsieur? Avignon is the half of Eome, and 
for a hundred crowns I will make you white as snow.” 

“With a hundred crowns.” 

“ Yes.” 

“Well! I wager a hundred more that you will not suc- 
ceed.” 

“Morbleu! agreed!” exclaimed Coq-Heron pressing m 
his vigorous hands, the hands of his young pupil. 

“All your savings will disappear, my poor Coq, if you 
make such bets often,” continued M. de Chavailles. 

“And if you make similar ones, you will soon be ruined. 
Monsieur le Marquis. I shall set out on my campaign to- 
morrow.” 

A quarter of an hour after. Hector dreamed that at the 
head of a company, he was patting to rout the whole army 
of Imperials. At day-break, Coq-Heron equipi^ed himself, 
left the hostelry and directed his course toward the fau- 
bourgs of the city. Ho had the face and costume of a war- 
rior; a plumed hat, a justaucorps and belt, from which 
hung a formidable rapier, calculated to frighten passers-by, 
boots mounting to his knees and armed with resounding 
spurs, a poniard with a steel handle beating against his 
hip, and his moustache curled. In this captain’s outlit, he 
took a street which conducted toward one of the city gates 
where usually idlers, talkers and travelers gathered to- 
gether. Silver and gold pieces sounded in his pocket, and 
he carried 41 certain number of slips of paper all ready, with 
only the blanks to fill up. 

On this night Avignon had slept with one eye open ; at 
dawn the entire city paced the streets. The proclamation 
of the Vice-Legate formed the subject of every conversa- 
tion. Nothing was talked of but fe.cits of war, and it seemed 
that this population, so pacific the evening before, had re- 
turned to the time* of the Crusades. The churches were 
filled with enthusiasts who went to hear tlie preachers call 
the faithful to combat; monks, mounted upon stones, 
preached” at the street corners, and promised pleniary in- 
dulgences to whomsoever would take up arms and the 
kingdom of heaven to Christians who should die while de- 
fending the Church; young people went and came through 
the streets, animating each other, and the soldiers of the 
Pope had such a triumphant countenance, that only to look 
at them was sufficient to inspire one with the desire of don- 
ning the helmets. They had the appearance of young 
Fernando Cortezee setting out to conquer unknowm Mexicos. 
Coq-Heron, seeing himself followed by a band of urchins 
who admired liim, murmured between his teeth: 

“The fish do not fail; all that needs be done is to extend 
the nets.” 

Arrived at the door of an inn frequented by every species 
of adventurer, the future quarter-master of the company of 
M. le Marquis de Chavailles turned round, and with a 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


69 


superb air, contemplated the groups of Avignonnais who 
were drinking, gambling, and making a great uproar all 
around. 

“Hello! ray masters,” exclaimed Coq-Heron, when he 
saw the general attention fixed on him, “have you among 
you some intelligent minds desirous of seeing Italy in com- 
pany with a brave captain who commands brave soldiers ? ” 
The drinkers deserted glasses and bottles; the gamblers 
dice and cards, and the majority of the auditors, rising up 
en masse, exclaimed : 

“I! I! I! ” 

“Eh! ” said Coq-H5ron imposing silence on his auditory 
by a wave of his hand, “ I well knew that I had to deal with 
intelligent men ; but I did not suppose there were so many 
of them! Vive Dieu ! how quick you are to seize good op- 
portunities! but calm your impetuosity a little. I pray you ; 
we wish indeed some brave fellows, but we do not Avish too 
many of them.” 

“ How many! speak ? ” they cried on all sides. 

“My captain’s company is like Paradise;” continued 
Coq-Heron ; “everybody wishes to enter it, but there is not 
room for everybody.” 

“Explain yourself! speak! ’’.they again cried out. 

When Coq-Heron understood that his auditors had arrived 
at that degree of impatience in which action precedes 
reasoning, he fumbled in his pockets, drew forth some 
imaginary lists, and made a semblance of reckoning his 
accounts. ^ 

“My faith!” said he, “there is still room for twenty 
elect.” 

Fifty amateurs bounded toward him. 

“A moment, if you please!” continued Coq-Heron ; “I 
can not, however much I should like to, admit you all. 
Come, my brave fellows, range yourselves in line, so that I 
can make my choice. 

The candidates for enrollment stationed themselves in two 
parallel lines on the sides of the inn. Coq-Heron had a 
chair, some pens and ink brought, and having placed his 
papers in order, passed in review the army of fifty called, 
from which were to come out the twenty chosen. 

“Our company,” said he with a magnificent seriousness, 
is the first which will leave for Rome ; it will enter on the 
campaign first, and the first rewards will be for it. Italy, 
my brave fellows, is a land of milk and honey— it would be 
as difficult to find an ugly woman there as to find a ring on 
a cat’s paw. It is a blessing for pretty fellows like you. 
And what wine! wine which has been baptized with the 
name of lacmjma-Christi, which, in the language of the 
country, signifies tears of the good God, it is so soft and 
palatable. And then the Italian princesses,— and there are 
as many of them down there as there are shepherdess 
here,— are the very devil for getting married. Without 


70 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


taking into consideration that if one commits some pecca- 
dillo, as one is in the country of indulgences, it is an easy 
matter to relieve one’s conscience of it.” 

While discoursing thus, Coq-Heron examined his recruits 
and chose the handsomest and best made fellows. When 
lie had terminated his inspection, Coq-Heron approached 
the table, and taking a pen delicately between the tliumi) 
and index finger of his right hand, turned toward the twenty 
chosen. 

“It is now a question, my children, of signing the con- 
ditions of the engagement which unite you toM. le Marquis 
de Chavailles, my captain.” 

Coq-H4ron pronounced this name with an emphasis which 
dazzled his auditors; the names of the Plantagenets or 
Bourbons could not have sounded wfith more effect in his 
mouth. 

“It is then agreed,” he continued, “ that you bind your- 
selves to follow’ the Marquis de Chavailles into Italy, and 
to serve under his orders for tw’o consecutive years, in con- 
sideration of which my captain promises you his good 
offices with the Pope, ten crowns payable a month after 
your arrival at Rome, and ten other crowns w’hich I am 
now going to count out to you besides four that are guar- 
anteed to you monthly by ouf Holy Father.” 

Coq-Heron drew from his pocket the money ^Yhich he had 
placed there that morning and scattered it over the table. 
The twenty recruits exclaimed with one voice that this ar- 
rangement suited them and signed on^after the other. 
Coq-Heron then picked up wdiat money wal left and made a 
countenance as if he were going to rise. 

“How about us ? ” said five or six droll fellow's ranged 
around the table and to whom the enlister seemed to pay 
no attention. 

“What! you?” Coq-Heron exclaimed with an aston- 
ished air. 

“Undoubtedly 1 Have you not designated us just now ? ” 
replied the boldest of the baud. 

“I!” 

“ Assuredly !” 

“ But I have my tw’enty men 1 ” 

“All the same you have chosen us.” 

“ Then I have deceived myself, “ said Coq-Heron who had 
not deceived himself at all. 

“ Neverthless we have vour wmrd.” 

“And who says that I shall fail in it. He who has the 
honor of representing the Marquis de Chavailles keeps all 
promises.” 

This little tirade had upon the auditory the effect which 
Coq-Horon expected; a flattering murmuiHraversed the cir- 
cle <>f the elect, and the majority imagined that the Marquis 
de Chavilles wms at least the Pope’s cousin or nephew of the 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


71 


King of France. The orator of the band bowed before 
Coq-H6ron. 

“ Therefore we can count 

“ Upon your money ? Here it is.” 

“ Thanks.” 

“ A stroke of the pen at the bottom of this paper, and tl\e 
affair is complete. The Marquis will not object to four or 
live more brave fellows.” 

Coq-H^ron had fifty bottles and ten hams brought, which 
he generously distributed to his recruits, pulled down his 
hat, and went out in the midst of cries of enthusiasm from 
the recruits, to whom he gave a rendezvous at the hostelry 
of the Faisan cVor. 

“Behold twenty-five gudgeons in the basket,” said he 
when he had turned the corner of the street. “ I must have 
three times as many. Let us seek elsewhere.” 

Coq-Heron went into another quarter of the city, where he 
commenced again the same maneuvre with no less success. 
He recruited ten men in this place, ten farther on, and five 
in a cabaret; after which, night having come, he regained 
the hostelry of the Faisan tVor. Hector was walking before 
the. door, amusing himself in looking at the pretty girls 
passing by. 

“ Well! ” said he to Coq-Heron as soon as he perceived 
him, “ you have returned, and I can see from your coun- 
tenance" that you have not succeeded.” 

“If my countenance says that, it lies 1 ” exclaimed Coq- 
H6ron. 

“Ah bah! ” 

“ I have netted half the company.” 

“ The half already ? ” 

“ And to-morrow, or the day after at the latest, I will 
bring you the rest.” 

“Well! my friend, do as you wish, but I will not believe 
in your recruits until I see them. In the meantime, lend 
me ten crowns upon those which you are going to lose ; I 
have just met a pretty girl for whom I desire to purchase 
some lace and ribbons.” 

The result of this conversation was to bind Coq-H^ron to 
rise an hour sooner the next day. At day-break, he went 
out on horse back intending to scour the country around 
Avignon, where the presence of several enlisters made him 
dread a disastrous competition. His tour of the villages 
procured him thirty recruits; but he increased the number, 
on his return to Avignon, by a dozen great fellows who were 
Wfiiting for him on his route, attracted by the rumor of the 
marvels which he had promised to whomsoever should fol- 
low M. de Chavailles into Italy. His troop was almost com- 
plete* with the exception of seven or eight, soldiers, whom 
he succeeded in picking up one by one in the cabarets. The 
next morning, at dawn, he entered Hector’s room. 

“ Monsieur le Marquis,” said he parting the curtains of 


72 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


the bed, “your soldiers are at the door and solicit the honor 
of saluting their captain.” 

Hector dressed himself in three minutes and ran to the 
window. Scarcely had he appeared by the side of Coq- 
H^ron than noisy acclamations shook the neighboring win- 
dows. A hundred men waved their hats and uttered frantic 
vivas. Hector, concealing his joy, leaned toward Coq- 
H4ron. 

“Here is the company,” said he ; but the commission— 
where is it ? ” 

“ But I tell you that you shall have it.” 

“ That is all right, but I should prefer to have some tan- 
gible evidence of the fact. 

“ Well, when do you want it ? ” 

“ This evening, if it suits you.” 

“ You will have it at noon.” 

As soon as Coq-Heron judged that the most active among 
the employees had gone to the palace of the Vice-Legate, 
two hours after the official hour, he presented himself at the 
bureau of commissions. When it was his turn to be intro- 
duced into the presence of the officer in charge of the War 
Department, Coq-H6ron slipped a crown into the hand of 
the door-keeper, and asked him to use his credit to prevent 
his being interrupted. 

“ Give yourself no concern,” I'eplied the door-keeper. 

Tlie officer with whom Coq-Heron had to deal was a little 
fat man, with a sanctimonious countenance; he wore a cap 
upon his shining skull, a silken coat, and shoes with golden 
buckles. This species of ecclesiastic, who had nothing ec- 
clesiastical about him except the dress, slowly inhaled a pinch 
of snuff, and turning his penetrating look toward Coq-Heron 
said : 

“ Monsieur, what can I do for you ? ” 

“Monsieur,” replied Coq-IlLU'on bowing, “my master has 
charged me with the procuring of a captain’s commission. 
In his zeal for the good of the Church, he has raised a com- 
l»any of a hundred men, and he will only sheathe his sword 
when Our Holy Father shall have had satisfaction on his 
eiiemies.” 

“Those are noble sentiments which do your master 
honor,” continued the officer rolling a gold snuff box be- 
tween his i>lump fingers. 

“My master,” continued Coq-H^ron, “ has also charged 
ine, knowing your piety, with the distribution of these louis 
in alms among the ])Oor of your i)arish, so that they may 
prav God for the cause we are going to defend.” 

With one hand, the officer took the six pieces which Coq- 
Heron had deposited upon a corner of the table, and with 
the other dipped his pen in the ink. 

“ l^our master^s intention shall be fulfilled, “continued 
the abbe smoothing out a parchment stamped with the arms 
of the Pope. “You say that there are a hundred men ? ” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


73 


*‘.Yes, Monsieur.” 

“ You undoubtedly have the list of them ? ” 

“ Here it is.” 

“The name, now, of the worthy seigneur whom you 
serve ? ” 

“ The Marquis de Chavailles,” replied Coq-Heron resolu- 
tely. 

“ The Marquis de Chavailles! ” repeated the officer laying 
aside his pen. “ This is a name which is not unknown to me. 
Come, aid me a little in recollecting, From what country, 
I pray you, is this brave gentleman ? ” 

“ From I)auphiny.” 

“Wait. Yes! That is it. Is there not a story of a duel 
mixed in the chapter of his adventures ? ” 

“ Yes, Monseigneur, a little duel.” 

“ Ah ! My God ! ” exclaimed the officer joining his hands. 

“ You can not not imagine the extent of my master’s re- 
pentance; he has made gifts to all the most renowned chap- 
els of the Comtat, and besides he has recommended me to 
offer you these ten louis which he wishes you to employ in 
pious works!” 

“ I consent. To charge me with good works is to take 
me by my weak side ; but, tell me — is it not rumored that his 
adversary has died from the results of his duel ? It is a cal- 
umny, undoubtedly.” 

“Alas! not altogether.” 

“What do you tell me! “exclaimed the officer who, from 
fright, let fall the parchment. 

“Ah! Monseigneur! for two little wounds there was no 
occasion to die I The Marquis’ adversary has done it ex- 
pressly to vex us.” 

“ It is a great misfortune ! ” 

“ Which my master deplores more than an}" one ? He has 
had a thousand masses said for the repose of the dead 
man’s soul, and here are fifteen louis which he has asked 
me to confide to your excellency, the whole of it to be applied 
to that pious destination.” 

“ I shall not fail to do it,” said the officer with an air of 
compunction, and, picking up the parchment, he was going 
to wi ite the name of the Marquis, when he said : 

“I have been told that the victim was a man of the 
Church, but I have not believed it.” 

“It is nevertheless the truth,” said Coq-Heron running 
his hand in his pocket. 

“ Great heavens! ” 

“In appearance, at least,” the soldier hastened to add, 
“but I have never believed that our adversary w^as in or- 
ders. It is very probable that he had usurped a title which 
did not bolong to him.” 

“ Nevertheless the doubt is frightful.” 

“So frightful, that my master would do anything to re- 
deem his fault.” 


74 


THE }K>YAL CHASE. 


“ Those are honest intentions, and if you really believe 
that the unfortunate victim has made use of a title to which 
he had no right ” 

“ I am certain of it. Ah ! Monseignenr, if, to efface from 
the Marquis' soul the trace of the involuntary crijnes which 
he has committed, you consent to offer to the chapel of Saint- 
Beinist a silver chandelier valued at fifteen louis, my mas- 
ter wiil be eternally grateful to y< u! ” 

“I will do what your master desires,” replied the officer 
taking the fifteen louis which Coq-Heron presented to him ; 
“he is such a worthy gentleman and such a good Catholic, 
that he should be obliged in every way possible. Sit down 
there, I am going to write his. name, surname, titles and 
qualities, seal his commission and affix at the bottom the 
signature of the Vice-Legate himself.” 

A quarter of an hour after, the commission was^issued. 
Noon struck at the cathedral clock when Coq-Heron re- 
turned to the Falsan cVor. 

“Here is your commission,” said he to Hector, “ it has 
cost me — wait till I count: six and ten make sixteen, and 
twelve are twenty-eight, and fifteen make forty-three louis. 
Almost twelve hundred livres. It is dear, but take it, it is 
thoroughly regular.” 

“Well! my brave Coq, sfnce I owe my captaincy to you, 
the least I can do is to offer you my lieutenancy 1 ” exclaimed 
Hector. 

Coq-Hcron accepted and immediab'ly set to work to teach 
the troops how to handle arms. He employed such activity, 
zeal, and perseverance, that at the end of a month or six 
weeks, his recruits loaded their guns and crossed bayonets 
like old soldiers. The captain himself learnt maneuvering 
under his lieutenant after evening had come. The Pope’s 
army, about three thousand strong; was divided into three 
legiments or six battalions, commanded by a Swiss general 
sent from Koine. Not less than four or five months were 
necessary to this general to organize this army and equip it. 

After which it left for Marseilles, where the Pope’s galleys 
and the frigates of His Majc'Sty were to carry it to Koine. 
On their arrival at Marseilles, the troops were lodged 
among the bourgeois, like those of the King himself, and 
they waited for the hour of raising the anchor. 


CHAPTEK X. 

SIC VOS NON VOBIS. 

But the Pope’s galleys, not being accustomed to do active 
service, had not arrived in the port when the troops entered 
the city. The soldiers were obliged to wait until it pleased 
rlie wind to conduct these holy galleys from the coasts of 
Italy to the coasts of Provence, an accident for which these 
brave men consoled themselves by eating bouillabaise and 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


paying court to the pretty Marsellaise girls. They consoled 
themselves so well, thanks to the lodgings with which they 
had been provided by the munificence of tiie King, that the 
Pope’s galleys might have been three months in making 
the passage witlrout any of these modern Crusaders observ- 
ing it. War appeared to these valiant soldiers under the 
charming aspect of three meals served gratis by the bour- 
geois, and of grisettes with whom they could have a gay 
time, without any one daring to get vexed with the saviors 
of Christianity. The most fervent among them even asked 
in their prayers that this kind of war might never end. But 
if the soldiers rejoiced, it was not the same with the officers 
who hoped to push themselves in Italy. Hector, in his 
quality of captain, had been lodged with a gentleman v.’hose 
little hotel was situated on the Place de Linche. The 
family of this gentleman was composed of three children, 
of an old aunt and of a cousin who had arrived from 
America after having dissipated his fortune in a country 
where almost every one else made theirs. 

“Parbleu!” said the cousin one evening, attracted by 
Hector’s discourses, “ I have taken a fancy to be a soldier.” 

“ It is a superb trade,” said Coq-Heron. 

“If you wish to receive me in your company, you have 
only to present me an engagement and I will sign it 
blindly.” 

“ Here is one! ” said Coq-Heron who found without seek- 
ing the opportunity to replace a deserter whom the beauti- 
ful eyes of a Catalan had drawn to Spain. 

The cousin from America signed, and the company of the 
Marquis de Chavailles counted a gentleman tlie more in its 
ranks. Nevertheless the Pope’s galleys not arriving, the 
officers, to kill time, began to frequent the gambling houses 
like veritable soldiers of fortune. Hector acted somewhat 
like his comrades. One evening he encountered the cousin 
from America ])laying in a cabaret of the Rue du Pave- 
d’Amour. They were seated at the same table. 

“ My captain,” said the soldier cutting the cards, “ would 
you like to take part in a game of ombre ? I stake a 
doubloon.” 

“ Willingly,” said Hector who had become familiar with 
all games of cards in fifteen days; and, sitting down in 
front of the soldier, he placed a double louis beside the 
boubloon. 

In three deals, the French louis had rejoined the Spanish 
doubloon. 

“ Quit or double,” said Hector pushing four gold pieces 
upon the table. 

“ Agreed 1 ” exclaimed the soldier. 

This time Hector took the stake. 

“Let us quadruple it! ” said the soldier. 

“Certainly! ” replied the captain whom impatience spur- 
red on. 


76 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


The struggle was loug, but the soldier finally triumphed. 

“ Do you wish your revenge ? ” said he. 

“Yes,” said the captain. 

The cards were shuffled, and he lost again. 

“ Here are ten louis,” said Hector; “ give me the cards.” 

He dealt the cards, played boldly and lost. 

Basta is not propitious to me,” he exclaimed showing 
the ace of clubs which had just fallen upon the table. 

“Nor Ponto to me! ” said the soldier pushing forward 
the ace of hearts. 

At three o’clock Hector’s purse contained neither white 
nor yellow pieces. 

“ Is it enough ? ” asked the soldier. 

“ No,” said Hector. 

“ Then I cut.” 

“ There are twenty louis on this play. My cashier has 
them in his cash- box.” 

“A cash-box! a cashier! that is a piece of furniture I 
have never had and a functionary of which I have no 
need.” 

“He is my lieutenant.” 

“M. Coq-H6ron?” 

“ He himself.” 

The conversation ended, and the twenty louis went where 
their comrades had gone. Hector scratched his forehead 
and recollected that Coq-Heron had other louis in a certain 
leather purse which he had put aside for great occasions. 

“ I continue! ” he exclaimed. 

“ Very well ! ” said the soldier. 

“Good!” said the captain after he had lost; “ this time, 
I had Ponto P 

“ But you did not have Manille.” 

“Morbleu! I shall have to meet him. Let us begin 
again.” 

“ Immediately.” 

“ There are still twenty louis.” 

“ How happy it is to have a cashier! ” said the soldier. 

“ But the happiness is for you, it seems to me.” 

“You think so ? ” 

“ I am sure of it,” said the captain who was losing; “ still 
two more games, and I will have a cashier without a cash- 
box.” 

“ Let us play these two games, if you wish.” 

“ Bah ! let us only play one ; it is necessary to economize 
time.” 

“ That is just.” 

“At last, Manille has paid me a visit! ” exclaimed Hector. 

“ I have received that of Spadille^” exclaimed the soldier 
throwing down the ace of spades. 

“And that is why I have lost. The cash-box is empty 
now,” said the captain rubbing his hands together. 

“ Moneyless ? ” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


^7 


“ No, bat it is the same thing. Stay, I have an idea.” 

“ What is your idea ? ” 

“ You know my horse ? ” 

The brown bay ? ” 

“ I have no other. Do you think it is worth two thousand 
livres?” 

“ You value it low.” 

“ Let us start then with a thousand francs.” 

“ Agreed.” 

Hector shuffled the cards and dealt. 

“I believe that I have gained,” said the soldier at the 
end of a minute. 

“ And I am certain of it.” 

“ Then half of the horse is mine.” 

“ It is to much or not enough ; let us play the rest.” 

“It will save us the trouble of cutting it in two. Your 
turn, captain.” 

Two minutes after the horse had followed the money. 
The soldier then started to rise, when Hector said : 

“I have still something.” 

“What?” 

“ My aompany.” 

“ That is a marvelous idea of yours, captain.” 

“ An idea of five thousand livres, actual cost.” 

“Well! if you wish we shall divide the company into 
quarters.” 

“That will make a stake of twenty-five men.” 

The cards were cut, the game played, and a first squad 
was captured like the cash-box. 

“This makes me twenty-five prisoners,” said the soldier. 

Five minutes after, these twenty-five prisoners were in- 
creased to fifty. 

“Behold my regiment cut in two,” said Hector, “I shall 
now play the half which remains to me against the half 
wiiicli you have.” 

“ Captain, take care 1 ” exclaimed the cousin from America, 
“ you are tempting fate, for chance is against you.” 

“ Bah! fortune is capricious.” 

“Captain, take care! this may be your battle of Azin- 
court.” 

“ Perhaps also my battle of Bouvines! ” 

“ You are determined, then.” 

“ More than ever. I must have all or nothing.” 

The play began again, and this time, as before, Hector 
lost. He smiled, and, rising immediately, saluted his 
happy adversary. 

“ Captain,” he said to him, “my company is yours.” 

“What! the general flies because he no longer has an 
army!” exclaimed the conqueror; “we have still time; 
accept a revenge.” 

“ I no longer have anything.” 

“ You have your word.” 


78 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“ That is too costly,” said Hector bowing, “ I only engage 
that which I can lose.” 

The cousin from America saluted without replying. 
“Adieu,” said Hector extending his hand ; “ there is still 
here a captain and a soldier. Only you are what I was and 
I am what you were.” 

Hector left the cabaret of the Pave-d’Amour and gained, 
through the black and tortuous streets of the old quarter, 
the Place de Linclie, where Coq-Heron waited for him each 
morning. A pale light falling from overhead half lit up 
the somber walls and dirty pavement of these streets; the 
laboring population buzzed around the manufactories and 
the neighbors bade each other good-morning from door to 
door. When he entered his apartment, he found Coq-Heron 
seated on a sofa. Hector unbuckled his belt, opened his 
coat, threw his hat to the other end of the room and sunk 
into a fauteuil. 

“My friend, I have played! ” said he, while Coq-Heron 
looked at him. 

“ And you have lost ? ” 

“To lose and to play are synonomous.” 

“ That is just. How much have you lost ? ” 

“ All that I had on me.” 

“ Thirty louis, I believe ? ” . 

“ Almost.” 

“ And you have stopped there ? ” 

“Parbfeu! ” exclaimed Hector, who looked Coq-Heron in 
the eyes. 

“ Monsieur, you understand nothing about play.” 

“ And what would you have done in my place ? ” 

“I would have continued.” 

“Really!” 

“And I should have gained.” 

“ Well, that is what I have done, and I have lost.’* 
“Much?” 

“ The company’s cash-box, I believe.” 

“ You should have recovered it.” 

“And how?” 

“By playing?” 

“What?” 

“ Your captaincy embarassed you ? ” 

“ I confess it.” 

“ Well, I should have played the horse.” ' 

“ My brown bay ? ” 

“ The color makes no difference.” 

“ Do not vex yourself.” 

“ It is all because you never have any ideas! ” 

“ On the contrary I had thought that you would give me 
this counsel, and I have followed it in advance.” 

“ Well and good ! ” 

“ But it has turned out badly, my poor Coq.” 

“Ah bah!” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


79 


have lost the brown bay.” 

” Entirely ? ” 

“Did you wish me to keep an ear? After this stroke, I 
have stopped.” 

“That is where you were wrong.” 

“It was not enough then.” 

“If I had been there, I would have made you put the 
company on the table.” 

“ For losing it like the rest ? ” 

“The lock would have turned.” 

“ You are deceived.” 

“ Therefore, you have played it.” 

“And lost.” 

At this word, Coq-Heron struck the table violently with 
his fist. 

“Lost! You have lost as beautiful a company! ” he ex- 
claimed, “a company which I had formed with so much 
care, and which would have conducted us to the conquest 
of a principality! Why the devil have you played, Mon- 
sieur ? 

“Eh! monsieur! simply to be playing.” 

“That is something you will never do if you follow my 
counsels.” 

Hector burst out laughing. At the same moment, cannon 
shots were heard resounding. Other detonations still closer 
replied to these first shots. Hector hastily opened the door 
and mounted, v/ith his host’s family, to the terrace of the 
hotel. From this height, which overlooked the neighbor- 
ing houses, they discovered, through the the smoke ex- 
tended over the batteries of Forts St. Jean and St. Nicolas, 
a squadron of galleys which were entering the bay, bearing 
at the stern the white flag with the keys of St. Peter. Coq- 
Heron sighed, and, touching Hector’s shoulder, he extended 
his finger silently toward the sea. 

“ Well! what ? ” replied Hector, “I have started as a cap- 
tain, I will arrive as a soldier.” 

“If this is the wa}’' you understand advancement, you 
will go far! ” exclaimed Coq-Heron readjusting his belt. 

“Bah! the wisdom of nations indicates that it is neces- 
sary to know how to recoil in order to leap better. In the 
meantime, my friend, settle accounts with the cousin from 
America.” 

A quarter of an hour after, the drum beat in the streets, 
summoning to the ships the soldiers of the Pope. Many 
answered immediately : these were in debt to all the cab- 
aretiers of the city. Others showed themselves recal- 
citrant to the call of the drum ; these were consoling the 
Eurydices of the shops, whom the thought of an eternal sep- 
aration threw into tears and despair. Finally, toward 
evening, the major part of six battalions had embarked on 
board the galleys and frigates ; the boats took up half of 
the night in transporting the tardy ones who arrived upon 


80 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


the quay in bauds of three or four; at day-break, a last visit 
was paid to all the cabarets near the port to pick up those 
among the soldiers who had asked of the mythologic Bac- 
chus consolation for troubles of the heart, and about ten 
o’clock, after the volunteers of the Comtat had replied to 
the sergeants’ call, the squadron, every sail unfurled, 
saluted the citadel and turned its prow toward the open sea. 
The former com|)auy of M, de Chavailles had taken pas- 
sage on board a king’s frigate, on which, from the first day. 
Hector appeared as a simple soldier. His captain, in taking 
the insignia of the grade, had wished to constrain him to 
live on the footing of a gentleman who follows a regiment 
for his instruction and pleasure, but Hector had not con- 
sented to it, because at the moment of entering on the 
campaign, he ought, said he, to give an example of discipline 
to his comrades. As to Coq-Heron, rigid and silent, he per- 
formed his service of lieutenant with the same conscienti- 
ousness as if he had still been under the orders of Hector. 
The fourth day, Coq-Heron arrived upon the deck with- 
out a scarf and without ornaments of any kind and clothed 
like his master, who was dreaming in the sunshine, his back 
reclining against the mast. 

“What a change!” exclaimed Hector. “You were as 
handsome as the god Phoebus, and now you are tarnished 
like an old sou ! ” 

Coq-Heron gesticulated like a man washing his hands. 

“What!” continued Hector laughing, “can it be that 
your lieutenancy has rejoined my captaincy.” 

“ Exactly.” 

“ You have lost it at play ? ” 

“ No! I have sold it.” 

“ That is less original.” 

“ Monsieur, originality is not stamped with the King’s 
effigy. I have preferred good pistoles wherewith to fill our 
purse. It was sadly in need of them.” 

Hector understood Coq-Heron’s intention, took him by 
the hand and did not reply. Coq-Heron, happy and proud, 
began to walk the deck with the pensive and superb air of a 
legislator who is framing a constitution. Some hours after, 
the pilots signalled Civita-Vecchia, where the frigate cast 
anchor in the evening 


CHAPTER XI. 

GIPSIES. 

The troops disembarked at Civita-Vecchia gained Rome 
where they were quartered in barracks, part at Ft. St. Ange 
and part in the city; but they had not been there forty-two 
hours when the news was spread that they were going to 
be disbanded. In fact they were disbanded next day. A 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


81 


handsome gift was made to the officers out of the treasure 
of the Holy Father, ten crowns a head to the soldiers, after 
which each was free to return home. But very few thought 
of that. When one has quitted one’s country in the hope 
of conquering a dozen capitols, one does not return there 
before having seen something of the world. Hector and 
Coq-Heron established themselves in an inn of the city, 
and having a little money, awaited events. Hector had 
been gone from the Chateau-des-Dames close on to a year 
and had changed much. He was graceful, well formed, 
and his countenance pleased by its air of frankness and 
audacity. Hector and Coq-Heron lived about a year at 
Kome and in its environs. Hector had contracted'friend- 
ships with some young lords of the city who procured for 
him all sorts of diversions and taught him to know the 
world. They gambled much, invariably playing for high 
stakes. Hector, indeed, was a magnificent gambler, spend- 
ing or lending whiat he gained, and never reclaiming that 
which was not returned to him. As to Coq-Heron, he left 
Hector to his own devices ; a part of his system of practical 
education was to leave a great deal to the infiuence of 
chance. Sometimes certain scruples stopped him, but after 
a moment’s refiection he dismissed them, under the pretext 
that the only good cavaliers are those who have often 
fallen from a horse. 

At the end of a certain time, this life of nocturnal adven- 
tures wearied Hector. He did not encounter in it enough 
perils to suit him, and, on the other hand, he found in its 
disorder even a despairing monotony. One morning he re- 
turned at sunrise with his purse half full, after a night in 
which bottles and cards had taken up his time. Coq-Heron 
was sleeping like a dormouse in the antechamber. Hector 
ran to the stable, saddled and bridled their horses himself, 
regulated his account with the innkeeper, drew on his great 
boots, and, pulling Coq-Heron by the arm, informed him 
that they were going to leave immediately. Coq-Heron 
leaped to his feet thinking the house was on fire, and fol- 
lowed his master who descended the stairway four steps at 
a time. Two stable boys held the horses by the bridle; 
Hector set foot in the stirrup, placed a crown in the boy’s 
hand and leh. Coq-Heron imitated him in every point, 
urged on his horse and rejoined Hector as he was turning 
the corner 5f the street. 

“Eh! monsieur,” he said, to him, “where are we go- 
ing?” 

“ I do not know.” 

“Why do we leave then ? ” 

“Because I began to grow wearied by force of amusing 
myself.” 

“But it is a folly!” 

“That is my reason for doing it.” 

Coq-H^ron got vexed ; Hector burst out laughing like a 


82 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


madman, and all two crying and disputing left by the first 
gate which they came across in their passage. When they 
had made two or three leagues in the oi)en country, Hector 
drew bridle in order to let his horse breathe. 

“ Monsieur,” said Coq-Hdron, who was still scolding, 
“ you have at least taken leave of your friends ? ” 

“ I acknowledge^to you that I have forgotten it.” 

Coq-Heron bounded in his saddle. 

“But what will be thought of the nobility of Dauphiny, 
if you act in. this manner at all times ? ” 

“ Parbleu! has Signor Giuseppe Tartapaga, who was yes- 
terday killed in a duel, taken leave of us ? ” 

The fobi’ce of this reasoning crushed Coq-Heron, who 
breathed like a chorister and was silent. But the worthy 
valet was not a man to keep silent a long time. 

“Monsieur le Marquis,” said he with a ferocious air and 
drawing near to Hector, “ when we shall have l idden a suf- 
ficient length of time, shall we stop somewhere ? ” 

“ Certainly! we shall stop at the first inn for dinner.” 

“ Hold, monsieur,” exclaimed Coq-Heron, “ there is really 
no means of talking reasonably with you. I do not know 
what pleasure you find in always opposing me. What con- 
nection is there, if you please, between an inn and%vhat I 
ask you ? ” 

“ Have you not wished to know where we were going to 
stop?” 

“Yes.” * • 

“ Well, I have told you, and are j^ou not pleased ? ” 

“ But, monsieur, you dodge the question, and that is not 
to answer frankly. I well know that we dine on the road ; 
but all this does not say where we are going.” 

“ What do you wish me to answer, since I do not know 
myself! ” 

Then if this road conducts to Tartary, we shall go to 
Tartary ? ” 

“ Precisely. But I have every reason to believe that it 
does not lead there.” 

“ All the same. Monsieur, this is the first time that I have 
heard of cavaliers who tr.avel like madmen.” 

“Eh! what difference does it make, my friend! it would 
only prove that madmen sometimes are more intelligent 
than cavaliers.” 

“ Your manner of arranging things might siiit insects, 
but it is not very flattering to men.” 

“Judge for yourself! ■ The rhorning is beautiful, fresh and 
radiant; the road flees before us like a coquette who tempts 
us to follow her; we have between our legs good horses, in 
our pockets good ducats, by our sides good swords ; we are 
strong and healthy, free as the bird which passes singing 
over our heads; the unknown awaits us at the turn of the 
road, that charming unknown, that mysterious friend of 
the traveler which opens palaces, forces .citadels, extends 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


8M 

the ladder to the balcony, puts to sleep the jealous, and 
causes to shine over all life the enchanting prism of fan- 
tasy.” 

“ Till it breaks our necks! ” 

The philosophic interruption of Coq-H6ron put an end to 
the discussion. Hector shrugged his shoulders with an air 
not less philosophic, when he perceived a bad inn, whose 
symbolic pine branch swmng to and fro in the wind. The 
two cavaliers stopped before the open door, and had served 
to them a dinner of ham and sausage, which had the effect 
of calming Coq-Heron’s irritation and of making him 
glimpse things under a new point of view. They had been 
traveling in this fashion five or six days, when one morn- 
ing, after having passed beyond Ferrara, they arrived be- 
fore a miserable locanda where they had great difficulty in 
getting served to them some fresh eggs on a plate. While 
the host was holding the frying-pan, Coq-Heron fastened 
the horses under a shed, where, for all provender, there 
were a few" blades of straw and a little barley. The eggs 
cooked, the liost w-ent out under pretext of going to look 
for a marvelous Bologna sausage which existed somewhere 
in the neighborhood. The eggs eaten, Coq-Heron called 
for the host. He called him a second time, then once again, 
without obtaining a reply. 

” This feologna sausage,” he said then, “must be quite 
far off; our host has been gone at least ten minutes.” 

” If Brother Jean was here, he would command you to 
have patience,” said Hector. 

” Brother Jean is only a fool! if he were in my place he 
would be hungry, and being hungry, he would cry out.” 

“ Cry then ! ” 

Coq-Heron ran to the door of the locanda, looked up arid 
dow'n the road and saw nothing. 

“ This Italian locanda has to me the air of a Spanish po- 
sada! ” exclaimed Coq-Heron. ” Let us go, monsieur, and 
seek lodging elsew'here.” 

, Hector rose up and followed Coq-H4ron. The latter en- 
j tered the shed and uttered a cry. 

I “ Well! what’s the matter? ” Hector asked. 

' “ Monsieur, the horses have disappeared.” 

” Perhaps our host has taken them to go in search of the 
sausage.” 

“Eh! monsieur, men do not go like carriages, with two 
horses. I tell you that he has stolen them.” 

“ It is probable.” 

Coq-Heron, exasperated, could not detach his eyes from 
the place where he had just left the horses eating straw and 
barley. 

“ But how the devil has this scoundrel managed to carry 
them off without our hearing him ? ” 

” It is very simple,” replied Hector, “ look at the ground, 


84 THE ROYAL CHASE. 

where the horses have trampled. Do you uot see a piece of 
linen there?” , ^ , 

“ All ! the rascal,” said Coq-H^ron striking his forehead, 
he has swathed their feet.” 

“ Exactly.” 

“ Tooth for a tooth, and eye for an eye,” said the valet; 
“ he has taken the horses, I will burn the house.” 

Hector took Coq-Heron by the arm as he was entering the 
locanda to get a chunk of tire. 

“ When you shall have burnt it, will you discover our 
horses any the more quickly ? Leave the house and let us 
seek our beasts.” 

Hector had not made a half a mile in his pursuit when 
he saw a child pursued by a huge dog. Hector drew his 
pistol and shot the dog before it could reach the child. A 
woman rushed out of a neighboring field and enveloped the 
child in her powerful arms, covered it with kisses, then 
placing it on the ground, turned toward Hector. 

“Is it you,” she said in badTtalian, “ who have killed 
this dog ? ” 

“Yes.” 

' The woman approached Hector, seized his hand and 
kissed it several times. , 

“Thanks,” said she. 

Then, taking her child upon her back, she disappeared 
through the fields. Hector watched her for some minutes, 
after which he continued his route. At the end of an- 
other mile, wearied by seeing neither passers nor laborers, 
nor any one who could give him news of his horse, he 
sat down on the side of a ditch, thinking that the news 
would finish by coming to him, since he renounced run- 
ning after it. He had not been situated thus five min- 
utes, when an old man in rags came up mounted on a 
beautiful horse. 

“ Here is a horse which I wish to get rid of,” said this 
man ; “ if he suits you, Signor Cavalier, I will part with him 
fora good price.” 

“ The price ? ” 

“ Fifteen ducats.” 

Thanks to the moderate price. Hector thought the jockey 
belonged to the society of some Brother Jean of the country. 

“ It is not dear, in truth.” said he, “ and I will willingly 
give you fifteen ducats if you prove to me that this horse 
is yours.” 

“ Eh! Signor Cavalier, in the times in which we live, the 
King of Spain himself would find it difficult to prove that 
the Milanese belong to him.” 

Hector comprehended that the fellow was no fool ; he 
smiled and continued a moment after: 

“ Tell me at least how this beast has come into your pos- 
session ? ” 

“ Oh! that is very simple. For three crowns I have pur- 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


85 


chased him of a Piedmontese officer who took him in bat- 
tle.” 

“ You have purchased him for three crowns, and you wish 
to sell him for fifteen ducats ? ” 

“Undoubtedly. There is the nourishment, and then the 
profit.” 

“You are riptht.” 

Perhaps the jockey’s story was not true, but it mip:ht be, 
and, in the position in which Hector found himself, it was 
too good an opportunity to let slip; he rose up then, and, 
drawing fifteen ducats from his pocket, he handed them to 
the jockey, who, leaping from the saddle more nimbly than 
one would have expected of a man of his age, handed the 
bridle to Hector. 

“ Adieu, Signor Cavalier, I wish that your horse may 
prove useful to you,” said he, and went away. 

“ Does this old rascal mock me,” thought Hector, while 
the jockey ran in the direction of a clump of pines visible 
on the side of the road. 

The horse which Hector had just purchased had a beauti- 
ful appearance. But when Hector wished to set foot in 
the stirrup the horse turned round and presented his 
breast. A second attempt was not more successful than 
the first. 

“ This is a pleasant animal ! Shall I be obliged to lead 
him like a lackey to the locanda ? ” Hector said to himself. 

He was going to try coercive means, when he wns sud- 
denly surrounded by thirty rascals, men, women, and chil- 
dren, armed with sticks and knives, who cried with all 
their might. 

“Give us back the horse,” said one. 

“ The horse is ours,” said another. 

“ You have stolen him from us,” added a third. 

The troop closed in a circle round Hector and menaced 
him with sticks and knives. He understood then that they 
wished to steal his purse. 

Hector drew from his pocket some ducats and scattered 
them among the crowd. While the women and children 
were kneeling to pick them up, a gipsy woman who had not 
assisted at this scene presented herself. She understood 
the situation at a glance, and setting down the child she 
carried, she ran to Hector and stopped him. 

“What has been taken from you shall be returned,” she 
said. 

She addressed the gypsies in a guttural voice and in a 
language Hector did not understand. The result w^as that 
Hector’s ducats were handed to her. 

“ Is that all ? ” she afterward asked in Italian. 

“No! ” replied the rascal with whom Hector had just had 
the affair of the horse; “no, there are still fifteen ducats.” 

“ Give them to me.” 

As the gypsy did so Hector recognized the jockey. 


86 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“ Is it you, honest merchant, who sold me that horse upon 
which you are now seated ? ” 

“Yes. He is my capital and brings me in two hundred 
ducats a year. I have already sold him thirty times.” 

The gypsy woman turned to Hector, and said : 

“ Have you nothing else to reclaim ? ” 

“I should like some information as to two horses that 
have been stolen from me.” 

“ Describe them.” 

Hector described them, and the jockey said: 

“ I have seen them.” 

“ Whereabouts ? ” exclaimed Hector. 

“At the locanda, where I have stolen them.” 

“ You will return the two horses to this cavalier,” said the 
gypsy woman. 

“At once,” replied the jockey, and spurring his horse, he 
left like an arrow. 

As soon as Hector received from the gypsy woman the 
ducats which she had collected from the band, he threw 
them into the midst of the group. 

“ I never take back what I have given,” said he. 

A thousand exclamations of joy saluted this rain of silver. 
The gypsy woman looked at Hector. 

“Give me your hand,” said she. 

She took his hand and examined the palm. 

“Ah! you wish to read my destiny,” said Hector. 

“ Yes, destiny owes to you beautiful days ; she loves reso- 
lute hearts and open hands.” 

She leaned ^ver Hector’s hand and curiously examined 
the symbolic lines. Hector smilingly watched her. She 
suddenly repulsed Hector’s hand, and exclaimed : 

“ Too late I too late 1 ” 

Hector looked at her thoroughly astonished. 

“ What do you mean ? ” he asked. 

The gypsy woman shook her head. She then raised her 
black eyes to his face, and contemplated him for a moment. 
After tliis she placed her hand on his shoulder, and em- 
braced him on the forehead. Hector shivered. He was 
drawn from his reverie by the gallop of horses. It was the 
jockey returning. 

“Here are your horses,” said the gypsy woman, “ leave, 
and may he who is on high conduct you.” 

Hector leaped into the saddle and rode off, leading one of 
the horses by the bridle. When he arrived at the locanda, 
Coq-Heron was waiting for him seated before the door. 
The honest valet uttered a cry of joy on seeing the two 
horses. He mounted the one Hector led and followed his 
master. On the way, Hector related his adventure to Coq- 
Heron. When he came to the exclamation of the gypsy 
woman, Coq-H6ron scratched his forehead with a pensive 
air. 

“ What does she mean with her too late ? ” he exclaimed. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


87 


‘‘What does the lark say ?” Hector replied pointing out 
to him that bird singing in space. 

Hector had heard at Ferrara that Mar^chal de Villeroy 
was going to shut himself up in Cremona which was menaced 
by Prince Eugene. It was generally thought that grave 
events were at hand in that part of Milan. Hector resolved 
then to push on in that direction, in order to smell the odor 
of powder which he had not scented for some time. Some 
fugitives whom he met along the route, told him that the 
city was infested, that the country was invaded by an in- 
numerable army of Imperials, and that the Marechal de 
Villeroy could never resist such a valiant general as Prince 
Eugene, served as he was by numerous troops. 

“ Decidedlv,” said Hector to Ooq-Herou one day, “the 
gypsy must have meant that I would arrive at Cremona too 
late to assist at its taking.” 

Finally, three days after their departure from the locanda, 
one misty evening, they perceived from an elevation the 
city clocks, and in the plain the camp of the Imperials. 


CHAPTEE XII. 

THE REGIMENT OF THE CROWN. 

The time was the month of February, 1702. The mist 
which accompanies winter evenings covered the surface of 
the fields. Objects were indistinguishable ten steps off, and 
everything seemed confounded in an ocean of floating 
vapor. Hector and Coq-Heron, who were seeking a place to 
pass the night, got off their horses, and, holding them by 
the bridles, walked for some time in an aimless manner. A 
species of cabin whose walls were half overthrown rose up 
before them ; they entered it, hitched their horses to a rack 
tilled with straw, and, rolling their cloaks around their 
shoulders, left the cabin to see if some other hut in the 
neighborhood would not furnish them the supper which 
accident sent to their horses. They had not gone far when 
a whisper stopped them; they heard walking, and the 
sound extendea like the noise of a light wind in the trees. 
Hector and Coq-Heron, by an instinctive movement, carried 
their hands to their belts. Around them, they saw nothing, 
were it not the red light of a torch dancing at the end of an 
invisible arm. Hector and Coq-Heron took refuge behind 
the trunk of a large walnut tree and waited, with their 
looks fixed upon the torch. Suddenly a troop of men came 
out of the bosom of these opaque shadows and passed be- 
fore them. Another group appeared farther on. 

“ What must we do? ” Coq-Heron asked his master quite 
low. 

“ Follow them.” 


88 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


They mingled with the troop. Several of these men wore 
great white cloaks, similar to those of the two adventurers ; 
all were armed ; some spoke among themselves, but in a 
low voice. It was clear that these unknown men were go- 
ing on an expedition. There was some danger perhaps in 
following them ; but it was precisely the expectation of this 
danger that determined Hector. Thanks to their costumes, 
master and valet passed unperceived ; besides the fog pro- 
tected them. The man with the torch marched first. Hector 
remarked that several of his new companions had their 
swords unsheathed or carried pistols in their hands, as if 
they wished to be ready to act at the first alarm. 

“Here are men,” he thought, “who neglect no precau- 
tion ; ” and he himself examined his sword to see if it played 
freely in its scabbard. 

They left the cabin to the left and filed away into the 
night. At the end of a hundred steps, the man with the 
torch stopped close to an embankment. 

“It is here,” he said in German. 

“Good!” said Coq-Heron, who, like his master, under- 
stood and spoke this, language a little, “ they are Imperials. 
What a wasp’s nest! ” 

“Bah!” Hector replied quite low, “if these German 
wasps have their sting, we have ours.” 

Wliere the guide had stopped was a half ruined construc- 
tion, through a hole in which the entire band passed. The 
thick shadows rendered thicker still by the torch prevented 
Hector from knowing where he was or whither he was 
going; he placed his foot at the mouth of this hole, made a 
step forward and disappeared. Coq-Heron came close in 
his wake. It was a subterranean dungeon they had entered, 
the interior of a ruined aqueduct long since abandoned. 
The moving and distant star of the flambeau guided the 
troop. 

“Our general’s idea is an excellent one,” said to Hector 
the soldier who preceded him. 

“Excellent! ” repeated Hector. 

“ They are going to be surprised ! ” 

“ You mean they will be stupefied.” 

“We crawl under the ground like moles and we fall on 
their backs like wolves.” 

“ It is superb! ” 

The soldier stumbled against a pebble and was silent. 

“It appears,” thought Hector, “ that we are going to sur- 
prise the enemy. Now, this enemy being ray friend, the 
Imperials need not be too sure of their game.” 

Suddenly a new light shone in the distance. 

The light remained immovable like a star: the column 
pressed on, and soon the rays of the two torches were 
blended. When Hector reached them he found himself in a 
vast cellar; the men who accompanied him were ranged 
along the walls like phantoms. There was a door in the 


THE ROYAL CHASE, 


89 


wall from which led a spiral stairway the end of which w’as 
lost in the shadows. 

The aqueduct disgorged its men one by one and the cellar 
slowly filled up. When a certain number of soldiers had 
gathered together, one of the officers ranged them in a line 
and mounted the stairway at their head. Hector and Coq- 
Heron were in this first column ; they had pulled down their 
hats so as to slightly hide their faces. A priest received 
them at the top of the stairway and introduced them into 
a large room. Other soldiers armed with axes and pistols 
were there. 

When they were well in order, one of the officers opened 
the door which led into the street, and all went out in the 
most profound silence. The street was deserted ; the fog 
was beginning' to disappear, and the pale light of the morn- 
ing lit up the roofs of the houses. Hector and Coq-H4ron 
looked at each other in a knowing fashion, and were ready 
to act. 

“ I will go in one direction, you go in the other,” the mas- 
ter breathed in the valet’s ear. 

Hector saw to his right an obscure street and entered it. 
The street wound like a serpent between two rows of black 
houses ; in two bounds, he was sheltered from all pursuit. 
A solemn silence, scarcely interrupted by that vague noise 
which accompanies the awakening of cities, surrounded 
him. He kept on until he came to a larger street, followed 
it, seeking with his eyes a barrack or some post, and arrived 
upon a place where a regiment was drawn up. 

“ To arms ! to arms ! ” cried the adventurer as he bounded, 
sword in hand, toward a group of officers who were talking 
at the head of the regiment; “to arms! the Imperials are 
here! ” 

The officers made the regiment shoulder arms, and several 
of them asked Hector questions, when at the end of a street 
debauching on the place, an infantry corps appeared. 

“Here is my response,” Hector cried to them; “those 
are Iruperials. Forward.” 

“Forward!” cried the colonel; and the regiment, mov- 
ing behind its chief, charged the enemy. 

The fusilade burst and the city awoke in surprise. Coq- 
Heron, while Hector took the right, had taken the left, and 
liad encountered a post which he warned of the presence of 
the Imperials in Cremona. The chief of the post sent some 
of his men to the principal officers to warn them of what 
was passing, and with the rest followed Coq-Heron who 
conducted him straight to the house of the priest. But on 
turning the first street they were stopped by a corps of Im- 
perials. Coq-H6ron discharged his pistols at the troop and 
the combat commenced. The Imperials had taken care to 
detach a part of their men on the side of a rampart where 
existed an old door walled up. They demolished it with a 


90 


THE liOYAL CHASE. 


surprising rapidity and Prince Engine threw himself into 
the city at the head of the new regiments. 

Nevertheless the general officers and Mar^^chal de Ville- 
roy, surprised by the discharge of musketry, mounted on 
horseback and repaired to the city square, where the ren- 
dezvous' had been given in case of alarm. Drums were 
beating in all the streets, trumpets sounding, battalions 
were formed in haste and ran to meet the enemy who were 
even now in the heart of the city. The Regiment of the 
Crown encountered by Hector, had succeeded in maintain- 
ing its position and in repulsing the Imperials from the 
neighboring streets. On all sides the fight was carried 
stubbornly on ; the Imperials had the advantage in num- 
bers, but the French charged them with an impetuosity 
which disconcerted the enemy. 

The Irish battalions had rejoined the Regiment of the 
Crown, which the tire of the enemy decimated without caus- 
ing it to give way. An officer named M. de Praslin, com- 
manded the regiment to which Hector had addressed him- 
self, the colonel having been killed. At each moment of- 
ficers arrived from all points of the city. 

“And M. de Yilleroy ? ” M. de Praslin asked one of them. 

“ He has Just been made prisoner.” 

“ The Marshal a prisoner ? ” 

“ The Marshal and his page ! ” 

“Forward!” cried M. de Praslin who did not wish to 
give his soldiers time for reflection. 

“ And M. de Crenan, our general ? ” he questioned a mo- 
ment after of a soldier who threw himself among them sob- 
bing. 

“ He is dead 1 ” the soldier replied. 

“ Are you sure of it ? ” 

“ I have seen his corpse disappear between the arms of 
the Imperials.” 

“ Forward ! ” repeated M. de Praslin. 

The soldiers made a passage in the midst of the enemy. 

“Parbleu!” said M. de Praslin, at the moment the Im- 
perials were recoiling in disorder, “if M. de Revel has not 
conceived the idea of destroying the bridge over the Po, we 
have still a chance to get killed, but not to save Cremona.” 

Hector heard it, and leaping upon a riderless horse, rode 
off. 

Some groups of soldiers whom he met indicated to him 
the place where he would And M. de Revel. He arrived 
there and repeated to the Lieutenant-General, to whom the 
command now belonged, what M. de Praslin had Just said 
to him. It was a ray of light for the officer, who in the 
confusion of orders and movements, had neglected to take 
this precaution, the most useful of all. 

“ Go,” said he to one of his aides-de-camp, “ follow this 
gentleman, and do as he directs.” 

Hector and the aid-de-camp left at a galop, arrived at the 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


91 


bridge, and broke it in the middle. At the same moment, 
and as the last stones fell in the water, the Imperial troops, 
eonducted by Prince Thomas de Vaiidemont, appeared on 
the other side of the river. 

“Gentlemen, it is too late! ” exclaimed Hector, saluting 
them with his sword. 

Prince de Vaiidemont wished to attempt the passage, but 
it had become-impracticable. 

Hector rode back to render an account of what he had 
done to M. de Praslin; on the way he heard a great tumult 
in the direction of the H6tel,de Ville; the bells rang, the 
cannons thundered, the people were excited. While lie 
was hesitating, as to whether he should go to see what was 
taking place, he met Coq-Heron covered with blood, who 
emerged from a neighboring street at the head of fifty sol- 
diers all blackened with powder. 

“ What are they doing down there ? ” Hector asked Coq- 
H4ron. 

“It is Prince Eugene amusing himself with taking the 
oaths of the magistrates.” 

“ What! they are going through the ceremony ? ” 

“Did I not tell you so — it is the trade of magistrates, in 
time of war, to do that which is asked of them.” 

Coq-Heron, in the midst of this tumult, was lively and 
joyous like a fish in water. When he learned that his young 
pupil was going to the main square, he and his troop also 
went there. 

The French, repulsed from the heart of the cit}", except 
tliose battalions which held out under M. de Praslin, had 
rallied under the ramparts which the Imperials had failed 
to take possession of. The ground was disputed inch by 
inch, and night alone put an end to the struggle. 

The two parties, equally harassed by fatigue, thought 
equally of retreat. 

M. do Eevel, whose decimated troops had not eaten since 
the evening before, concluded to shut himself up in the 
castle of Cremona with what soldiers he could carry with 
him ; Prince Eugene, who had seen from the top of the ca- 
thedral the bridge over the Po broken up and the French 
rallied under the ramparts, began to despair of the success 
of his enterprise. 

There was no fighting except around the door occupied 
by the Imperials and from which the French wished to ex- 
pel them. 

The stubbornness was extreme on both sides. Finally, 
when night came, the French carried the door, which put 
them in communication with the quarters of tlie Irish. 

A profound calm succeeded this last combat; each one 
stretched himself out on the ground, and the field of battle 
became, in a few minutes, the field of sleep. 

Toward midnight. Hector, refreshed by a repose of two 
o,r three hours, rose up, went as far as the advance posts, 


92 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


listened intently, and hearing nothing, returned to the biv- 
ouac. 

“ Monsieur,” said he to the officer who commanded him, 
“I desire to traverse the city to learn what the enemy is 
doing. Give me some spies and I will bring you back some 
news.” 

“ Take care! monsieur, it is a difficult trade and you may 
get killed.” 

“ If that is all, it is nothing.” 

“ Go then ! ” replied the officer. 

Hector awakened Coq-Hero.n who would never have par- 
doned him if he had exposed himself to death all alone, and 
chosing four determined fellows, they plunged into the 
neighboring streets. 

The spies filed along the walls, eyes and ears alert; here 
and there some heaps of dead bodies indicated the places 
where the fight had been most stubbornly carried on ; 
plaintive groans came from these fields of carnage, where 
from time to time heads were raifeed weighed down by the 
approach of death. 

From street to street they advanced until they reached 
the door occupied just now by the Imperials; silence en- 
.veloped it; no sentinel watched there; no post defended it. 

“Is it a snare ? ” said Coq-Heron retaining his master by 
the arm. I 

“ I am going to ascertain whether it is or no.” 

“Not before me, if you please.” 

Coq-Heron bounded toward the rampart, but not so 
quickly however that Hector could not follow him. When 
they arrived at the door demolished the evening before by 
the enemy, they no longer found anyone there. The whole 
Imperial army had vanished like "an army of phantoms. 
Coq-Heron hurried from the rampart; the night was dark 
and mute. 

“Ah! the rascals! ” said he, “they have escaped us.” 

Hector ran to the bivouac where he had left the officer, 
and imparted the news to him. 

“Parbleu!” exclaimed the officer, “ we have preserved 
Cremona and'lost M. de Villeroy.” 

Coq-Heron addressed Hector in this fashion while the 
aides-de-camp were giving orders. 

“Monsieur,” said he, “we have gathered enough laurels, 
and it is time to think of something more substantial.” 

Hector looked at Coq-Heron without understanding. 

“Monsieur,” continued the soldier, “ it is easily seen that 
this is your first campaign. Summon up your recollections,’ 
and do not let yourself be intoxicated by victory. Is it 
true that we had two horses vesterday ? ” 

“Quite true.” 

“ And some money also ? ” 

“Undoubtedly,” 


THE nOYAL CHASE. 


93 


“ Well, at this hour, we no longer have either money or 
horses.” 

“ We have left them in the cabin close to the aqueduct; 
let us go there.” 

“Do not give yourself that trouble, for it would be use- 
less; they have been taken.” 

“ What do you know about it ? ” 

“These things can be divined. The question now is to 
replace them.” 

“ In what way ? ” 

“ It is very simple. Do you take charge of the horses : I 
charge myself with the money.” 

“ But where the devil do you expect me to get them ? ” 

“You have the arms of a man and the head of a child. 
Stop the first horse that passes near you. In war, mon- 
sieur, the soldier inherits from the soldier.” 

“That is soon said!” murmured Hector, shaking his 
head. 

“And sooner done! ” replied Coq-H^ron. 

He took the street nearest to him, sought a place encum- 
bered with dead bodies, untied the belts of two or three Im- 
perial officers, took all the ready money he found upon 
them, and pushed on farther. Hector watched him, hold- 
ing two horses by the bridle. 

“ I have found again,” said he, “the sum we lost; honest 
people,*when they are reimbursed, no longer ask anything.” 

“ I,” said Hector, “ have taken the two beasts which you 
see.” 

Coq-H^ron approved the choice made by his pupil, pressed 
the money in a belt which he borrowed from the dead body 
of an Hungarian officer, and addressed Hector anew: 

“ What are we going to do now, Monsieur ? ” 

“ We are not needed here, let us go elsewhere.” 

“ Shall we be better off elsewhere than here ? ” exclaimed 
Coq-H4ron who, tranquil as to the present, experienced 
anew the need of caviling. 

“All right, we shall remain,” replied Hector who, wish- 
ing to make his opinion prevail without difficulty, immedi- 
ately adopted that of Coq -Heron. 

Coq-Heron replied by an inarticulate exclamation, spurred 
his horse, and left Cremona in Hector’s company. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE king’s volunteers. 

Our two adventurers wandered over the land of Italy for 
nearly four years, going from Parma to Milan, from Man- 
tua to Venice, from Genoa to Verona, stopping at times 
twenty-four hours in a capitol and at times also three months 
ih a village ; running twenty times thb risk of being hung 


94 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


as two spies; poor one day, rich the next, joyous at 
all times, and tossed- by chance like sea-weed by the 
waves. 

One day as they w^ere traveling upon the frontiers of 
Piedmont, they came across a hut in flames, around which 
a dozen Imperial hussars were caracoling, driving before 
them three or four cows and some goats surprised in the 
stable. 

These pillagers bore, suspended to the saddle-horn, 
chickens, ducks, pigeons, some dead and some alive. 

A man, whose head was cloven, was stretched out on the 
ground, near an old woman who sought to staunch the 
blood flowing from a gaping wound ; a little girl of five or 
six years of age, pressing with her feeble hands the head of 
a white goat, employed all her strength to retain it. This 
pitiful scene had already excited Hector’s compassion, 
when one of the hussars, impatient of the resistance which 
the little girl opposed to the march of the goat, ran to her, 
and striking her on the face with the handle of his sabre, 
prostrated her on the ground. 

“ Ah ! the bandits ! Hector exclaimed. 

And listening only to his indignation, he charged these 
soldiers, pistol in hand. 

He sent a ball through the body of the hussar who had 
struck the little girl. Coq-H^ron fired upon the man next 
to him ; after which both of them fell upon the others who, 
surprised by this sudden attack, received the onslaught in 
a stupefied manner. But when they perceived that they 
had only two men to deal with, they in their turn charged 
the two adventurers. They pressed Hector and Coq-Heron 
so close that they no longer thought of anything except to 
sell their lives dearly. Coq-Hcu'on’s horse had fallen; a 
hussar plunged his sabre into the stomach of Hector’s 
steed, and the horse pawed the air with his fore feet and 
drew Hector with him in his fall. Two or three hussars 
were going to dismount to finish tlieir victims pinned under 
the bodies of their horses, when one of them, turned about, 
and said : 

“ Escape who can ! ” and rode away at full speed. 

His comrades looked up and saw twenty French cavaliers 
coming down upon them like a thunderbolt; the hussars 
applied spurs to their horses’ flanks and decamped at a gal- 
lop. Seven or eight musket shots saluted them at the same 
time; one of the hussars extended his arms and then rolled 
into the dust; the others, grasping their sabres by the 
blades, pricked their steeds, who in their furious bounds 
seemed scarcely to touch the S(^il. The quarter-master who 
commanded the French cavaliers st()p])ed his troop around 
the dead and wounded. Hector and Coq-Heron were drawn 
out from under their horses. M. de Chavailles had fainted 
from the violence of the sliock he had received. When 
Hector opened his eyes, he encountered the anxious regard 


THE ROYAL CHASE, 


95 


of Coq-Heron, who, kneeling beside him, was rubbing his 
temples with a piece of linen saturated with spirits. 

“Morbleu! Monsieur, what did you mix yourself in this 
affair for? ” exclaimed Coq-Heron. 

“ And the little girl ? ” replied Hector pressing the hand 
of the old soldier. 

“ She will get off with a scratch.” 

The fact is that the little girl was already consoling her- 
self by caressing the white goat. 

“ Coq-Heron,” said Hector, “open our portmanteaux and 
what money you find there give it to these poor people.” 

“Well!” said Coq-H6ron after he had carried out the 
Marquis’ orders; “well; we are now as we were at the de- 
liverance of Cremona, without money or baggage.” 

“With this difference,” replied Hector, “that there is 
neither money nor horses to take here.” 

The old woman now came and thanked Hector. 

“ What I have done others would have done in my place,” 
Hetor replied. 

“True soldier’s heart,” exclaimed the quarter- master. 
“ None could doubt that seeing what you have done.” 

Seven Imperials lay upon the ground, four of whom were 
dead and three of whom were gasping painfully. 

“ To what regiment do you belong?” Hector said ad- 
dressing himself to the quarter-master. 

“ To the Regiment of the Crown.” 

“ Parbleu ! I am among friends.” 

“ We feel honored.” 

“ I made the acquaintance of 3 "our regiment at Cremona 
and I see no reason why I should not make it more close 
than before. What do you think about it, Coq-Heron.” 

“One folly the more will not matter.” 

“Well! my friend, I do not wish to give the lie to the 
good opinion which you have of my wisdom. Comrade, give 
me your hand.” 

“Soldier in the Regiment of the Crown ? 

“ Yes, volunteer of the King.” 

“ The colonel will owe you twenty crowns.” 

“ It is forty that you will drink to our health,” said Coq- 
Heron grumblingly." 

Three minutes after, the little troop took the way to the 
bivouac, where the Regiment of the Crown camped in com- 
pany with three or four others. Hector and Coq-H4ron were 
incorporated and commenced their service on the same da 3 ^ 
Fortune conducted the Regiment of the Crown to the siege 
of Turin. Hector and Coq-H6ron followed the regiment 
there; the pupil had quickly accustomed himself to the 
trade which the professor had never forgotten. They both 
lived like good and brave soldiers, without regi'et for the 
past, but without much hope for the future. M. de Cha- 
vailles sometimes recollected the enthusiasm with which he 
had left Avignon at the head of a company of a hundred 


96 


TJIE royal (JllASE. 


well armed aud well equii>j)ed men. lie lecollected the 
numberless dreams with which his southern imagiuation 
had filled him. What remained to him of this company 
and these dreams ? M. de Blettarius’ sword and a great 
green cloak which did not seem destined to last long. Hec- 
tor’s comrades and chiefs, knowing his rank and the story 
of his life, treated him with a certain consideration. It was 
about this time that his encounter with M. de Eiparfonds 
came to surprise M. de Chavailles. AYhen Guy and M. de 
Fourquevaux ran across him Hector had just gone to sleep 
dreaming of the almost certain chances of his never arriv- 
ing at anything. No one knew what he pursued ; what he 
hoped, he did not know himself. Accident had conducted 
him to the regiment; he waited for another accident to take 
him out of it. 

“ If you wish,” exclaimed the Due deRiparfonds after he 
had learnt his cousin’s adventures, ” this accident will be 
myself.” 

“Willingly!” replied Hector; “I have not sought you, 
I have met you. Let the will of God be done I ” 

“Follow me then to headquarters.” 

“Now?” 

“ Undoubtedly.” 

“ It is impossible.” 

“Why?” 

“ It is rumored in the Regiment of the Crown that Prince 
Eugene is going to attack our lines.” 

“ Well ? 

“Can I quit my comrades at the moment of battle? 
Would you do it in my place ? ” 

“You are right! ” exclaimed the Comte de Fourquevaux. 

“Remain then,” said the Duke, “but after the battle, you 
will rejoin us. I have your word.” 

“ And I will keep it, if I am not dead.” 

At this moment drums beat aud trumpets sounded. The 
soldiers ran to their arms and prepared for battle. 

Hector rose up. 

“ This would have put an end to our dinner,” said he, “ if 
we had not taken care to finish it ourselves. Monsieur le 
Due,” he added addressing himself to his cousin, “do you 
permit me to rejoin my company.” 

“It is an inspection, I believe,” said M. de Fourquevaux. 

“ Eh ! my God, yes. Something less gay, but more fa- 
tiguing than an assault.” 

Hector hastily saluted his new friends, and ran to the 
ranks where Coq-Heron awaited him. A numerous group 
of cavaliers appeared at the extremity of the long line 
formed by the regiments in line of battle. At the head of 
this group rode the Duke of Orleans. 

A grave rumor agitated the Regiment of the Crown ; the 
rumor ran, at the moment Hector mounted his horse, that 
the Duke of Orleans was going to leave the army and 


THE IlOYAL CHASE. 


97 


abaudon the direction of it to the Due de la Feuillade. A 
thousand commentaries circulated concerning the causes of 
this retreat which appeared irrevocably decided on in the 
mind of the general-in-chief. It was “said that Marshal 
Marchiu, opposing the Duke in everything he undertook, 
had disgusted him with his nominal command; that the 
siege was not carried on as the Duke wished, and that feel- 
ing the uselessness of this siege, the Duke did not wish to 
assume the responsibility of it ; then the imagination of the 
soldiers coming as an aid to these rumors which anger and 
indignation propagated from mouth to mouth, a thousand 
tales and fabulous narratives were added to the expression 
of a still doubtful truth. 

The army of Italy no longer had any confidence in the 
chiefs whom Louis XIV., and his ministei- Chamillart sent 
it. Marechal de Villeroy had let himself be taken in Cre- 
mona as in a mouse-trap ; the Due de Vendome had written 
many dispatches, delivered some uncertain combats, and 
quitted Milan after having destroyed it; the Due de la 
Feuillade had ruined his cavalry in useless raids in the 
mountains, and lost precious time in pursuing the Duke of 
Savoy. With that military tact which divines without rea- 
soning, the old soldiers understood that notone of their gen- 
erals was capable of contending with the most skilful cap- 
tain in- Europe. Now! strange thing! the court had decided 
to send them a chief young, brave, and ardent, a chief of il- 
lustrious blood, whose only care would be his glory. In de- 
fect of Marechal Catinat, whom they all regretted, he was 
the best chief that could be given them, and now this gen- 
eral, their last hope, spoke of retiring. 

With him gone the confidence, the courage, the resolu- 
tions of the soldiers would go also. The army was struck 
to the heart. The Duke of Orleans advanced slowly. M. de 
Chavailles had never seen him ; he looked at him closely, 
while the rnurrhurs of the soldiers increased each minute. 

The Duke of Orleans was then thirty-two years of age. 
He rode a black horse which he handled with infinite grace. 
Though he was above the middle statue, his gestures and 
carriage were easy and graceful. His eyes denoted intelli- 
gence, and his countenance had an affable expression which 
prejudiced one in his favor and made him loved before he 
had spoken. He was one of those gi-and seigneurs of a pure 
race who make themselves recognized at the first glance, 
and more than any other prince of the blood, he was madejfor 
representing that glorious houseof Bourbon whose splendor 
though somewhat dimmed, still dazzled the world. 

He pleased when silent; but as so^n ns he opened his 
mouth atid gave utterance to just, spii'itual, eloquent, nnd 
persuasive sentences, rendered more charming still by tlie 
sound of his voice, he fascinated. A thought seemed to 
preoccupy him ; his extremely vivacious eyes had that pi'o- 
found expression which reflection gives; sometimes his 

7 


98 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


nostrils swelled and his lips curled disdainfully. A flash of 
indignation passed over his countenance; then, as if he had 
wished to subdue an inner emotion he turned his looks to- 
ward his troops and replied to their acclamations by 
smiles. 

A brilliant cortege of pages, officers and gentlemen of his 
household accompained him. 

As he passed in front of the Eegiment.of the Crown, an 
old quarter- master said aloud in the ranks that, after what 
he had heard related, it was clear that the Duke of Orleans 
showed himself to his army for the last time. 

“ He has wished to lead us against the enemy,” he added, 
“Marechal Marchin has opposed it; now Monseigneur says 
farewell before going away.” 

At these words a great murmur rose up in the midst of 
the ranks. The Duke of Orleans turned his head toward 
the regiment as if he wished to have the explanation of this 
noise. Hector spurred his horse and impetuously left his 
squadron. 

“ Monseigneur,” he boldly exclaimed, “ they say that the 
enemy is at the entrance to the camp. Will you refuse us 
the aid of your sword to combat him ? ” 

The eyes of the young general flashed. 

“ You ask for my sword ? ” he exclaimed. 

“ Yes, yes,” the soldiers repeated showing their guns. 

“ Well, I forget everything and we shall combat to- 
gether.” 

And turning toward his followers, he added : 

“ Gentlemen, since these brave men desire it, I keep the 
command.” 

The soldiers of the Regiment of the Crown placed their 
hats on the end of their swords and saluted the Prince with 
a thousand acclamations. The noise of these acclamations 
carried to the last ranks of the army the news of the victory 
which the soldiers of the “ Crown ” had gained over the 
mind of the Duke of Orleans. The Joy was immoderate 
everywhere, and proved, perhaps more than the Due de la 
Peuillade and M. Marchin would have desired, the con- 
fidence which the young general inspired. The cortege of 
the Prince disappeared behind a curtain of trees, preceded, 
followed, and accompanied by a thousand cries of enthusi- 
asm. When the evening came the soldiers ranged them- 
selves around the bivouac fires, animated by a new ardor 
and ready to pounce upon the enemy at the first signal. 
Their anxieties were dissipated like those vapors of the 
morning whichjhe summer wind disperses; hope was in all 
hearts and gayety upon all countenances. 

Nevertheless the Duke of Orleans returned to his quar- 
ters, whither he was accompanied by his more intimate 
friends. It was the moment which the Due de Riparfonds 
had chosen for presenting to him his young kinsman, whom 
he went express!}^ to seek in his regiment. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


99 


“ What! you wish me to follow you in a similar state V' Hec- 
tor exclaimed throwing his eyes upon his clothes which 
were in a rather bad condition. 

“Well, the Duke of Orleans will see by yonr appearance 
that you are a good and brave soldier, and will receive you 
all the more kindly,” said M. de Riparfouds. 

“ Lead on then, I follow you.” 

The Prince received Hector with an affability which was 
natural to him, and recognized him at the first glance. 

“ It is you. Monsieur,” said he, “who have so brusquely 
asked me for my sword ? ” 

“ The entire army spoke; I have fulfilled the functions of 
an echo,” Hector modestly replied. 

The Prince smiled. 

“ And you see,” he said, “that I have not delayed giving 
way to the wishes of the echo. But you have charged me. 
Monsieur, with a rough task.” 

“ Not so rough but what a great heart and a good sword 
can conduct it to a good end.” 

“ Yes, if the sword and heart were free, but are they ? ” 

This brusque repartee stified the phrase upon Hector’s 
lips. The Prince passed his hand over his forehead and 
closely scrutinized the little circle of courtiers by which he 
was surrounded. His exclamation, which seemed snatched 
from him by an inner sentiment keenlj’' excited, had given 
rise to a certain embarrassment which suddenly betrayed 
itself by a general silence. The courtiers, accustomed to 
the reserve of the court in w'hieh every word was w^eiglied, 
observed each other and no one replied ; but, finally, like a 
man emerging from a profound reverie, the Prince contin- 
ued : 

“ It matters not. Monsieur, how difficult may be the mis- 
sion with which I am charged, I will fulfill it to the end.” 

The Prince passed into a neighboring room, changed his 
clothes and returned a few moments after. A page now en- 
tered and announced tliat His Highness’ supper was served. 
The Prince turned to Hector and graciously said : 

“ You will remain wdth us : I wish to talk to you.” 


CHAPTER XIV. 

A PRINCE OF THE BLOOD. 

That evening the Duke of Orleans supped privately ; only 
three guests were around him— the Due de Riparfonds, the 
Comte de Fourquevaux and the Marquis de Chavailles, his 
two most intimate friends, and a young soldier who seemed 
disposed also to become one. Whatever his preoccupations 
were, the Duke of Orleans always forgot them in sitting dowm 
to table. The sight of the wines which spai’kled in ruby 
waves, the brilliancy of the lights, the elegance and perfume 


100 


THE ROYAL CEASE. 


of the flowers, acted on his inflammable mind and forced 
the grumbling voices of cares to be silent. Besides he was 
a grand seigneur (great lord) who royally undetstood hos- 
pitality and who did not wish one to leel inquietude in his 
presence. Epicurean and prince of the blood, he souglit 
pleasure for himself and for others. 

But if the phrase which put an end to the conversation 
gave M. de Chavailles food for thought, it preoccupied to a 
perhaps higher degree still, M. de Eourquevaux, a new 
comer in the camp. What will was opposed to that of the 
Duke of Orleans ? How was it that his movements were not 
free? What superior power thus controlled his actions? 
What was the secret and formidable power which under- 
mined the double influence which he owed to his quality of 
prince of the blood and his reputation as a good general ? 
Why had he resolved to quit the army, when the lines of 
circumvallation were menaced by Prince Eugene and when 
his presence alone inspired some security in the soldier ’ 
Was it necessary to see in the sadness of the Duke of Or- 
leans the result of one of those dark intrigues of the court 
of which M. de Riparfonds’ reticence permitted him to 
pierce the depth ? It was a mystery which he burned to 
penetrate, and M. de Eourquevaux promised himself to 
spare nothing to succeed therein. 

“If it is only a question of listening and looking, I will 
soon know the truth,” he thought to himself. 

Some family affairs had detained the Count quite a while 
irom Versailles. The rapid sojourn which he had just 
made there, before going to the army, had not initiated 
him into the secret influences which directed the politics of 
the court; but now that he was entering the movement of 
active life, he wished to know what he was ignorant of • 
what he suspected he wished to make sure of. Though 
the Duke of Orleans was accustomed to never receive any 
one at table, and though the officers of his household had 
precise orders to that effect, the gravity of the situation 
caused him, for this once, to depart from the accustomed 
thrice, during supper, messages arrived ; 
the Duke opened the dispatches, ran over them rapidly 
elevated his eyebrows, expedited some orders and again 
took up the interrupted conversation. But in spite of the 
courtesy of the young general, it was easy to divine that 
uie perplexities of his mind increased at each new message 
Ihere came on^e, on reading which they saw him become 
slightly pale ; he made a movement as if to rise up, but he 
contained himself, and turning toward one of the pages 
who served the table, he confined hi,mself to asking if the 
officer who had brought this dispatch was still there 

Yes, Monseigneur,” replied the page. 

Let ffim enter then,” replied the Duke of Orleans, 
standing entered, saluted profoundly and remained!. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


101 


“Monsieur,” the Duke said to him in a voice which he 
strove to render calm, but which trembled a little, “ through 
respect for my rank I will not insist, but will you say to M. 
Marchin,— and retain well my words,— that I hold him re- 
sponsible for everything which may happen, for everything, 
Monsieur! ” 

The officer bowed and went away without replying. 

This singular scene had profoundly excited the curiosity 
of the guests; M. de Fourquevaux "and M. de Chavailles 
exchanged a glance, but none of them, after the officer had 
retired, dared, to take up the thread of the conversation 
broken by this incident. 

“This supper is getting melancholy,” the Duke of Or- 
leans finally said extending his glass to the pages; “we 
ought to be more gay, messieurs, on the eve of a battle, 
since we shall not have time to laugh to-morrow.” 

“A. battle! ” exclaimed M. de Chavailles. 

“ I have every reason to believe that it can not be much 
delayed, and if the news which I have received is con- 
firmed, no doubt we shall see Prince Eugene to-morrow.” 

“At last! ” said M. de Fourquevaux, filling his glass to 
the brim. “I drink to the battle, messieurs. Now is the 
time to rejoice and celebrate, by libations, this happy 
news ! ” 

“ Do you think so,- Monsieur ? ” replied the Duke. 

“What! you command all these brave men who await 
the signal of combat, and you do not wish me to rejoice ? ” 

The Duke of Orleans shook his head. 

“Your senti!'nents are such as one expects from a gentle- 
man, Monsieur, and I thank you for them,” the general 
said ; “ but I have every reason to fear the end of ail this. 
The thought of this battle makes you gay; I must confess 
that it makes me sad.” 

None of the guests replied. M. de Kiparfonds became 
pensive, and the other two interrogated the Prince with a 
look. The Duke of Orleans turned to M. de Kiparfonds 
and continued : 

“I owe to you, my dear Duke, and I owe to those of your 
friends whom you have introduced to me, the only agree- 
able hours which I have enjoyed since my arrival in Italy. 
I have been here two months, and for sixty days I have re- 
gretted my coming.” 

M. de Fourquevaux could not repress a gesture of aston- 
inhment. 

“It astonishes you. Monsieur,” continued the Prince, 
“yet nothing is more true. Ah! I would have taken care 
not to quit the Palais Royal, if I had supposed that things 
went in this fashion on the other side of the Alps.” 

“It is certain that they go a little awry,” said Hector. 

“A little!” exclaimed the Duke of Orleans, “a little! 
Say altogether! You know, my dear Duke,” continued he 
addressing himself to M, de Kiparfonds, “if I am accuse 


102 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


toined to toccupy myself with serious affairs at table. I 
have always held that the most useful of all were too weari- 
some for one to sacrifice to them the night, after having 
given them the day. Well! these are of such a nature 
that, in spite of all’ my efforts, it is impossible to dismiss 
them from my thoughts. Their recollection pursues, be- 
sets and assails me even in your company, at supper! ” 

“It is certain that they chose badly their time,” replied 
M. de Riparfonds with a gravity full of irony. 

“If in this affray,” exclaimed the Duke of Orleans, “I 
must lose my reputation, at least I ought to lose it without 
wearying myself.” 

“ Have things gone so far? ” asked M. de Fourquevaux, 
astonished at what he had just heard. 

“ Things go as badly as they can go,” the Prince replied. 
“ How could it be otherwise in an army whose chiefs do 
not understand each other? ” 

“ You speak of chiefs, I thought there was only one ? ” 

“In appearance, yes ; in reality, no; and I who have the 
most honor have the least authority. The orders which I 
give are not executed. The other day I ordered three reg- 
iments to be sent in the plain, and they were made to climb 
the mountain. One would say that some bad genius takes 
pleasure in opposing all my projects and in overthrowing 
all my combinations.” 

“ But in your place. Monseigneur, I know some people 
who would have this bad genius shot,” M. de Chavailles 
tranquilly said. 

M. de Kiparfonds looked at his cousin and smiled. 

“They do not shoot a Marshal of France,” said he. 

“At least they deprive him of his command,” replied 
Hector. 

“Ah! You think so, my valiant Achilles!” exclaimed 
the Prince. 

“ My faith, yes.” 

“ And what would you say, if tlie courier through whom 
I should ask for the recall of M. Marchln, might bring me 
mine ? ” 

Hector and M. de Fourquevaux bounded upon their 
seats. 

“Yours! ” they exclaimed simultaneously. 

“ Mine, messieurs, in good form and duly signed by M. 
de Chamillart. Oh! I well know that the ministerial dis- 
patch would be full of charming words and laudative 
phrases, but the recall would be at the end.” 

“You, recalled! it is impossible! ” exclaimed the Comte 
de Fourquevaux. 

“ And why not? ” 

“But your rank! the name which you bear! ” 

Tlie Duke of Orleans burst out laughing. 

“Because I am a prince of the blood?” said he; “ask 
M. de Biparfonds who has seen the court and knows it. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


103 


Ask him what role a prince of the blood plays there. Ah ! 
if I was a prince of bastard blood, it would be a different 
thing, and I am unfortunate in not being a son of Madame 
do Montespan ; but a prince of the legitimate blood, a 
prince who has the maladresse to be something in himself 
and to be descended from Queen Anne of Austria, like our 
gracious monarch, Louis XIV. Ah ! fi ! messieurs, such a 
one is good to hunt in the woods of St. Germain, to play at 
the game of king at Marly, to parade in the grand apart- 
ments of Versailles; but to make war in the fashion of our 
ancestor Henry IV., no. Hold, upon my word, I do not 
know by what miracle I have arrived even thus far. Be 
certain that many things related by the prophets are not 
the most prodigious. You smile, messieurs! See if the 
Prince de Conti, in spite of his great courage, his ardor in 
serving the King, his aptitude at the trade of arms, his 
groat renown, has ever been able to obtain a command 1 
Why was he not called Due du Maine or Comte de Tou- 
louse? He would then have obtained both. As to myself, 
there are some days when I imagine that I owe my nomin- 
ation to the hope entertained at Versailles of seeing me 
destroyed in some battle. I perceive, also, that they know 
the merit of the men with whom I am placed.” 

“You will give the lie to these infamous hopes ?” ex- 
claimed Hector. 

“I will do my best, not hoping to succeed, but for the 
honor of my name. Ah! with what delight I started out 
and what Joy it would have given me to prove to them 
what one can do at the head of a valiant army. It may ap- 
pear strange to you, messieurs, but I bear the penalty of 
my name. M. de Chamillart does not love me and Madame 
de Maintenon detests me. Taken between the minister 
and the favorite as in a vice, what do you expect me to do ? 
Support fails me at Versailles and a thousand obstacles in- 
convenience me at Turin.” 

“ Break them, Monseigneiir ! ” exclaimed M. de Fourque- 
vaux. 

The Duke of Orleans shrugged his slioulders. 

“You forget. Monsieur, the chapter of secret instructions. 
For all .1 know M. March! n has orders to act without me, 
and if need be even against me. His proceedings, though 
very polite, cause me to think much ; he salutes me as soon 
as he sees me, and never speaks except with demonstra- 
tions of the most profound respect; but what he has de- 
cided always takes precedence of wliat I have resolved. I 
get in a passion; but he acts and acts so well, that we al- 
ways end by getting beaten. That is why I wished to quit 
th > army and at least shelter my reputation.” 

There'followed a moment of silence during which each of 
th<i guests conversed with his own thoughts; all that which 
M. (ie Chavailles had Just heard opened to his mind un- 
known perspectives whose depth he could not sound. Ho 


104 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


had never thought much about the court, where he did not 
think his destiny would ever call him ; but the revelations 
snatched from the Duke of Orleans by the violence of his 
emotion, and perhaps also by the secret influence of cir- 
cumstances and the hour, pointed it out to him as a terrible 
place all strewed with ambushes and perils. What was 
that region in which so many mysterious and powerful in- 
fluences were set in motion, that the highest heads \yere 
not safe ? An inexpressible desire joined to a mysterious 
fright took possession of Hector ; he feared to go there, and 
yet he sighed for the opportunity. 

“ Yes, I wished to leave. Monsieur,” continued the Duke 
of Orleans addressing himself to Hector, “ your intervention 
alone has prevented me.” 

“I am glad of it for the sake of the army.” 

“ I ardently hope that I may be of some service, Mon- 
sieui; but the result of the next battle will no doubt cut 
short my military career; and this beautiful result I will 
owe to M. de Feuillade and Marechal Marchin. 

The Prince pronounced these last words with a bitterness 
that made Hector tremble; the sympathy which he already 
experienced for the Duke of Orleans increased. Both of 
them had their misfortunes: youth, courage, and ardor 
were common to them ; luihappiness was a tie the more be- 
tween them. The Prince divined Hector’s emotion, and 
thanked him by a look impressed with a sadness wdiich was 
not customary with him. 

“ But,” exciaiined M. de Chavailles, “ does not Louis XIY. 
know all this ? ” 

“The King! oh! the King does not worry himself about 
so small a thing,” replied the Duke of Orleans. 

“ You belong to his race, and the misfortune which you 
foresee will reflect on the crown,” said Hector, who was not 
to be silenced by the mute warnings of M. de Eiparfonds. 

“ He is too high for anything to reach him. All the 
events which disturb the earth, however important they 
may be, do not mount to the first step of his throne. The 
King, Monsieur, is Louis XIV., that is to say the grandest, 
the most magnificent, the most superb of the wmrld’s sov- 
ereigns, that one who has fatigued renown with the noise 
of his exploits. Europe might crumble, and entire France 
perish, but His Majesty Louis the Fourteenth of the name 
would remain impassible and erect like the man of Horace. 
He is a king who drapes himself.in his royalty like Jupiter 
in his thunderbolt. What matters to him injustice, in- 
iquity, the ruin of the greatest houses, the usurpation of 
valets whom the complaisance of Madame de Maintenon 
transforms into ministers, the humilialion of officers and 
gentlemen constrained to serve under generals who have 
risen through their baseness ? The King knows nothing 
and wishes to know' nothing. Versailles is his Olympus, 
and, like a God, be loses himself in his majesty.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


105 


I know of many who would be worse if fortune had 
given them 9 - similar position,” said M. de Kiparfonds 
coldly. 

These wmrds produced on the Prince’s mind the effect of 
a glass of ice water falling upon a hot bed of coals ; his 
boiling ardor wms extinguished. 

“Monsieur le Due is right,” said he, “the good comes 
from the King, the evil he commits is dictated to him.” 

“ The King has a just and upright mind, clear sense and 
a great heart,” added M. de Kiparfonds; “but how could 
his mind fail to go astray in the midst of ministers who de- 
ceive him, of courtiers who flatter him, of valets who be- 
siege him ? Is he free to think, and what he desires, can 
he always do it? He loves truth; he is made to practice 
error. And besides, at that height where he has arrived, 
his mind becomes dazzled, and the firmest geniuses are not 
always masters of their actions. Has he not been ac- 
customed, this great King, to see Prance palpitate under 
his hand, obedient fortune march in his train, the proudest 
wills bend to his desire ? Has not God performed for him 
that prodigious miracle of surrounding his throne with the 
greatest captains, the most illustrious poets, the wisest and 
most virtuous prelates, and finally with a concourse of men 
so justly renowned by their valor, their knowledge, their 
varied attainments, that to encounter a similar pheno- 
menon it is necessary to remount to the century of Augus- 
tus! If Louis XIV. was not the eldest son of the Chu.rch, 
acknowledge, messieurs, that he would have some right to 
believe himself of the race of Jupiter and a demigod. Go 
back some thousand years, let Paris be Athens and France 
Greece, and he would take his ])lace in the mythologic 
Olympus. But Louis is the first-born of that great race of 
Bourbons in comparison with which other royal families are 
like shrubs compared with an oak, and this suffices him.” 

“ And he has, pardieu ! good reason to be satisfied ! ” ex- 
claimed the Duke of Orleans suddenly foigetting his re- 
sentment. “ What gentleman would not say like Charles 
the Fifth : ‘ If I were God the Father, I would make my 
eldest son King of France.’ To Jhe health of the King of 
France, messieurs, and vwe le 7'0i.” 

Hector, Paul ^lmile, and Guy emptied their glasses. 

“ What pleases me in Louis XIV. is that he has always 
loved pretty women,” M. de Fourquevaux then said. 

“ Your remark is a profession of faith,” said the Duke of 
Orleans laughing. 

“ I do not deny it. Life is so monotonous that, were we 
not to make it a little gay, we would die of ennui. As to my- 
self, Paul Emile Phoebus de Montvert, Marquis de Four- 
quevaux, I consider as a miscreant whomsoever does not 
give to the ladies all his heart, all his thoughts, all his 
time.” 


106 


TEE ROYAL CHASE. 


“ I see that you are going to make me pass for a Turk,” 
observed M. de Riparfouds smilingly. 

“ Oh ! we know you : you are not a man.” 

“Indeed!” 

“You are a sage, and you enjoy all the privileges at- 
tached to the profession. You have the right to be grave, 
to sermonize, to be admitted to the reunions of people re- 
puted the most moral in France, to walk in your austerity 
like a bishop in his stole, to secretly be the envy and desire 
of all the mothers who desire you for their daughters, to ex- 
]dain inexplicable things and to practice perpetually phil- 
osophy as if you had invented it. Rut we who only have as 
our share twenty-five years, our stupidity and hearts easily 
influenced, what would become of us if friendly fortune did 
not reserve for us some of those daughters of Eve curious 
as to forbidden fruits, women necessary to civilized 
countries? I know of no other distraction to the melan- 
choly of our existence, and if this last consolation was 
ravisheil from us you would see me take the frock and bury 
myself in a desert. When I consider what a fate Providence 
has reserved for us in this place of exile called the earth, I 
am taken with a desire to raise altars to pretty women in 
order to thank them for consenting to live in such an ugly 
hole. Ah 1 messieurs, how kind their natures to share with- 
out too much impatience our journey in a land so disagree- 
able. Some even push complaisance so far as to let us be- 
lieve that they take pleasure in our company. A similar 
devotion merits all our love, and for ihy part, I feel dis- 
posed to refuse them nothing of what is legitimately due 
them.” , 

Paul Emile emptied his glass, and looking at Hector who 
was saying nothing, continued: 

“ Behold M. de Chavailles, who is coy, but who seems to 
think in this respect like myself. You must have some 
wheie a Maudane, my handsome Cyrus.” 

“ Those a, re delicate matters which I have not had time to 
studv,” replied Hector blushing a little. 

“ These matters are learnt without study, and I know of 
some whose science with regaid to this question is mirac- 
idous from their youth up.” 

“ If professors' are necessary to you,” said M. de Ripar- 
fonds, “ I know of some excellent ones not far off.” 

“ This concerns me,” the Prince Interrupted ; “ what have 
I done to you, and why do you attack me ? ” 

“ Y'’ou recognize yourself then ? ” 

“ Philosophy has said : Know thyself.” 

“And you know yourself!” said M. de Fourquevaux 
laughing. 

“Monsieur le Due has a great deal of perspicacity!” 
■pursued M. de Riparfemds. 

“ When you are credited with so many defects, you should 
at least have one accomplishment,” said the Prince. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


107 


They were at this point in their conversation, when an 
ofQcer came to warn the Duke of Orleans that a partisan 
was at the door, who solicited the honor of being admitted 
to his presence. 

“He has handed me this slip of paper, insisting that it 
should be brought to you immediately,” added the officer. 

The Prince read the paper quickly, and rising up : 

“Introduce this partisan,” said he to the officer who 
withdrew. 

“Gentlemen,” continued the Duke turning toward his 
guests eyes filled with martial ardor, “if what this parti- 
san announces to me is true, we are soon going to come to 
blows.” 


CHAPTER XV. 

HEUR ET MALHEUR. 

The partisan was soon introduced. He was covered with 
mud and appeared fatigued like a man who has just made 
a long journey. 

“ You say. Monsieur,” exclaimed the Duke of Orleans as 
soon as he perceived him, “ that Prince Eugene is getting 
ready to attack.” 

“ I say. Monseigneur, that Prince Eugene has attacked 
the chateau of Pianezza, and that after having passed the 
Doire it is probable that he will march upon the camp.” 

“You have seen the combat ? ” 

“ I have seen it.” 

“It is certain that the chateau of Pianezza will not hold 
out ? ” 

“ It is almost sure to surrender.” 

“ Prince Eugene is a warrior who does not grow fright- 
ened at a stream and at falling brusquely upon our lines.” 

“ Like a wolf upon a sheepfold,” said the partisan. 

“Thanks, Monsieur, your opinion is not lost; Prince 
Eugene will find us ready to meet him.” 

After the partisan had withdrawn, the Duke of Orleans 
turned toward the three gentlemen, and said : 

“The ball after the supper, messieurs,” said he, “let us 
make ready to receive these people.” 

“We are going to enjoy ourselves a little! ” exclaimed 
M. de Fourquevaux; “ it was high time.” 

“ You have spoken of a movement undertaken by Prince 
Engene ; would it not be well to warn the Marshal of it ? ” 
said M. de Riparfonds. 

“That is precisely what I was going to do,” replied the 
Duke of Orleans. 

“ I go to my regiment,” exclaimed M. de Chavailles. 

Each one mounted his horse; Hector, went in one direc- 
tion, the Duke of Orleans with Paul Emile and Guy in 


108 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


another. Marechal Marcliin was tranquilly reposing, when 
the Duke of Orleans entered his room. The windows were 
closed and the curtains drawn. 

“ Monsieur le Marechal,” said the Duke after having 
awakened him, “ the enemy is marching upon us.” 

“ The enemy! ” exclaimed M. Marcliin rubbing his eyes. 

“ Prince Eugene, Monsieur, and you know how quickly 
he executes a task.” 

“ I know, but he is so far off.” 

“ He is under the walls of the chateau of Pianezza which 
he is attacking.” 

“Ah— bah!” 

“And when he shall have carried it, which will not take 
long, he will march upon us. Let us anticipate him, go to 
meet him, and profit by a difficult stream which he has to 
pass, to surprise and overthrow him.” 

“All this is marvelously combined, but what’s the good 
of it?” 

The Duke of Orleans trembled. 

“ Have I explained myself badly or have you misunder- 
stood me,” he said. 

“ Not at all ; you spoke to me of Prince Eugene ? ” 

“Well?” 

“ I do not believe it.” 

“You do not believe in the Prince Eugene ? ” 

“ No! he is at least ten leagues away, and troops on the 
campaign do not swallow’ ten good leagues as you and I 
swallow a quail ! And besides, how^ever valiant he may be. 
Prince Eugene is not a man to throw himself upon our 
lines expressly to get beaten.” 

“ It is certain that such is not his intention, and I am 
sure that he entertains one just the reverse,” murmured 
M. de Fourquevaux. 

The Marshal looked at the gentleman and smiled. 

“ Monsieur Marcliin, cast your eyes upon this paper,” 
said the Duke of Orleans drawdng from his pocket the note 
which he had received from the partisan. 

“ What does this prove ? ” asked the Marshal after having 
read the note. 

“ But it seems to me that it is clear enough. The partisan 
has seen the whole with his owm eyes.” 

“ He is deceived ! ” 

“ This is very ridiculous,” cried M. de Fourquevaux quite 
low’ to M. de Eiparfonds, “ but acknowiedge also that it is 
very amusing.” 

“ It might be, if his obstinacy should imperil the lives of* 
some thousands of brave men,” replied M. de Eiparfonds 
in the same tone. 

As he finished, an officer named St. Nectaire entered and 
fully confirmed the information furnished by the Duke of 
Orleans. 

“ You hear it! ” exclaimed the Prince. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


loo 


“ Bah ! I claim that it is impossible, ’’-replied the Marshal. 

“ Monsieur le Marechal,” said the Duke of Orleans, who 
made unheardof efforts to master his impatience, “when 
we have before us a man like Prince Eugene, impossible is 
a word that ought never to be employed.” 

“ We are older than he in the trade of arms; you have 
been falsely advised and you are wrong to believe what 
you have heard. Return to your room, remain tranquil, 
and be assured that none of the things which you dread 
will happen.” 

Upon which the Marshal rose up to break off the conver- 
sation. 

“If we wish to strike the enemy before he passes the 
Douro, there is not a moment to lose,” hazarded the officer. 

“ We will have leisure enough to-morrow,” continued the 
Marshal. 

The Duke of Orleans stamped. 

“ Do as you think best. Monsieur; as for myself, I shall 
have nothing more to do with it! ” And suddenly turning 
his back on M. Marchin, he left the apartment. 

The Prince returned to his rooms at a slow pace. Some- 
times he threw a keen look upon the scattered troops in the 
midst of which there was already manifested a certain agi- 
tation, and bit his lips made pallid by anger, then lowered 
his head and continued to walk slowly. 

, “Ah! a singular man is M. Marchin,” repeated Paul 
Emile while following the Duke of Orleans ; “ I should like 
to know how so great an obstinacy inhabits so small a 
body.” 

“ Do you think large vases are necessary to contain bad 
poisons ? ” replied M. de Riparfonds. 

“What displeases me in this whole business, is that we 
are losing the opportunity to charge in the plain; I have a 
new horse which would have done wonders.” 

“ Apropos of the Duke of Qrleans, do you begin to under- 
stand ? ” asked Guy of Paul Emile. 

“Slightly; decidedly the trade of prince of the blood is 
not a delightful one.” 

Scarcely had the Duke of Orleans returned to his room, 
when several general officers entered and insisted on him 
remounting his horse. 

“What for? I have just seen the anvil which does not 
seem disposed to move,” said he alluding to M. Marchin ; 
“ it is your turn, gentlemen, to pay a visit to the hammer.” 

“M de la Feuillade,” replied one of the general officers, 
“ let us pray God that he may forget us,” 

Nevertheless advices arrived from all sides, brought by 
emissaries who had seen everything. 

“Prince Eugene has carried the chateau of Pianezza!” 
said one. 

“ Prince Eugene is marching upon the camp! ” continued 
a third. 


110 


THE ROYAL CHA^E. 


“Prince Eugene will soon be in sight of the lines!’* 
added a newcomer. 

Tiie general officers, as advices succeeded each other, 
pressed the Duke of Orleans more strongly. 

The Duke of Orleans’ countenance showed that a combat 
was raging in his soul; on one hand, he was impelled by 
his natural ardor and his desire to aid men who were soon 
going to be embarrassed; on the other, he was restrained 
by the humiliation which he had just undergone at the 
hands of M. Marchin. But finally, his courage triumphed. 

“ After all it matters not whether I am seated upon a bed 
or upon a saddle,” said he giving way to the entreaties of 
the general officers, and he followed them. 

“ Thanks to God, we at last leave our lodgings,” said M. 
de Fourquevaux. 

M. de Kiparfonds shook his head. 

“ It is a little late,” said he. 

The Duke of Orleans and his company halted before the 
Regiment of the Crown, which had been one of the first to 
form in line of battle, acting upon the advice of M. de 
Chavailles. That gentleman was in the ranks, by the side 
of Coq-H4ron, who, sabre in hand, held himself more 
stiff and immovable than a post. By the attitude of the 
Duke of Orleans, Hector understood that the visit to M. 
Marchin had resulted in making the Prince adopt his first 
resolution. 

In him action preceded thought, and before even having 
reflected on what he was going to do, he rode his horse out 
of the ranks, and calling to the Duke of Orleans in a loud 
voice, exclaimed : 

“Are you doing what you promised. Monseigneur? 
Prince Eugene advances, and your sword is still in the 
scabbard 1 ” 

The Duke of Orleans recognized the voice of his guest; 
his eyes flashed, and he saluted him with his hand. 

“ Monsieur le Marquis,” said he, “ I will keep more than 
I have promised.” 

Just as he had finished speaking, the Marshal arrived, 
distracted, affrighted, like a man who is no longer master 
of his reason. The Duke of Orleans extended an arm to- 
ward the plain, and pointing out to him with the end of his 
sword a black mass of troops who were advancing in good 
order, said to him : 

“ Well, Monsieur, do you now believe in Prince Eugene ? ” 

“Yes! yes! ” exclaimed M. Marchin, “I see, it is indeed 
he! What must w’e do ? ” 

“ Wait for him, since there is no longer time to leave the 
lines, and do our best.” 

The first columns of Prince Eugene arrived in reach of the 
cannon, and immediately precipitated the action. It was ten 
o’clock in the morning. At three or four o’clock in the after- 
noon, the French army was in full retreat, Marechal Marchin 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


Ill 


killed and the Duke of Orleans, wounded in the hand and 
the wrist, abandoned the conduct of the regiments to the 
Due de la Feuillade. An unheard of concourse of fatal 
circumstances, the negligence of two generals whom M. de 
Chamillart had charged with the oj^erations of tlie siege, 
the quackery of the Due de la Feuillade, the blindness of 
M. Marchin, an incredible succession of imprudent meas- 
ures, had precipitated this disaster. Italy was lost for the 
grandson of Louis XIV. The army directed its course to- 
ward the Alps, abandoning Piedmont to Prince Eugene. A 
great silence reigned in the ranks thinned by death ; the 
soldiers marched with lowered lieads, looking sometimes 
behind, as if they wished to salute with a last adieu the 
province which they had just lost through the mad pre- 
sumption of their chiefs. In the distance was heard the 
noise of the artillery which thundered in pursuit of the rear 
guard, and upon the flanks of the column, the cracking of 
the fusillade kept up by tlie companies acting as sentries. 
The Duke of Orleans, reeling in a carriage, was surrounded 
by some officers ; exhausted by suffering and the long efforts 
which he had made for re-estp.blishing the combat and main- 
taining good order, he kept an obstinate silence from the 
time that, forgetting his last orders, the general officers 
had led the troops in the direction of France, instead of 
conducting them into Milan. He seemed resolved to no 
longer disturb himself about anything and to leave to 
chance the care of saving the army. The Due de Ripar- 
fonds was seated near him, not less silent, but more calm; 
a body of gentlemen rode in his train, and-amongthem, M. M. 
de Chavailles and de Fourquevaux. The clothes of the two 
young men bore the trace of the part they had taken in the 
combat; torn in- twenty places and stained with blood, they 
showed that their wearers, excited by the same ardor, had 
thrown themselves into the thick of the light and had 
bravely paid for it with their persons. 

“ Fortune, protects you, and .you are still my conqueror,” 
said Paul Emile all at once after having attentively exam- 
ined his companion. 

“ I! And why, if you please ? ” 

“I have just counted with extreme care the holes which 
the Imperials have made in your clothes; I have found fif- 
teen of them ; now, I have only thirteen ; and in addition, 
to arrive at this figure, I have to count this rent; it is hu- 
miliating.” 

“You look at the coat, I look at the sword ; yours is red 
up to the hilt.” 

“ It is certain that my jonquil ribbons border on the ver- 
milion ; I will beg some dame of Grenoble to furnish me with 
seven or eight ells of a similar kind to repair this havoc.” 

“ They are said to be very charitable, and you will cer- 
tainly find two or three anxious to render you that light 
service.” 


112 


TEE ROYAL CHASE. 


“ That is not certain ; you look like a robber, and I have 
the appearance of a pirate. We will cut an ugly figure as 
we enter the capitol of Dauphiny.” 

“There! there! Monsieur le cornte, do not grow so des- 
perate! Jonquil ribbons are found everywhere. As to the 
coat, I iniagine that another one is to be found among 
your effects.” 

“ My effects! ah well, yes! you count without the Croats, 
my dear Marquis ; not one of my six lackeys is left, and 
now who the devil knows where are my effects.” 

“ I! ” replied Coq-Heron in that taciturn voice which was 
natural to him in critical circumstances. 

“You! And what do you know about them?” replied 
Paul Emile. 

“ If I say I know, ’tis because I know. Why should I 
say it if I did not know ? ” 

“ You speak like a book, and it is a marvel to hear you. 
Come, my friend, explain yourself. You said then that my 
effects ” 

“ Are at a hundred steps from us, not far from those .of 
the Duke of Orleans.” 

“ It is you then who have saved them ? ” 

“ Parbleu ! Did you think it vvas those six great lackevs ? ” 

“To speak frankly, it seems to me that it would “have 
not been too much to exact of their valor.” 

“ You are very young. Monsieur,” replied Coq-Heron with 
a learned air. 

“That is true, my friend, but do not get vexed. One’s 
age is not dependent on oneself.” 

“You will correct yourself gradually.” 

“I am sure of it; but, tell me, Coq-Heron, why wishing 
to save baggage, you have not thought of youf master’s ? ” 

Coq-Heron made a horrible grimace. 

“Is that a pleasantry. Monsieur? ” he exclaimed. 

“ No,^ and it is very seriously that I speak.” 

“ It is easily to be seen that you do not know M. de 
Chavailles. Thanks to his economy I have for a long time 
been relieved of the task of watching over anything at all. 
In short there is nothing to watch. You understand ? ” 

“ Perfectly.” 

“ When I saw that the battle was lost I ran to the effects, 
which were being pillaged. Your six great lackeys ” 

“You have seen them then ? ” 

“Quite well! they ran in the plain like partridges : I have 
broken the head of one of them, and calling some soldiers 
who were passing by, I have rescued your effects.” 

“Thanks, my brave fellow.” 

“Oh! there is nothing that deserves thanks.” 

“But there is. Do you know that without you I would 
have a pitiful air on my arrival at Grenoble. Thanks to 
your valor, I have now ribbons and clothes to put on, and 
I can present myself without frightening people.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


113 


“That is what decided me.” 

“Ah!” 

“I thought that if you had a little of everything, there 
might be something for my master.” 

Tme two young meu burst out laughing at this observa- 
tion. If M. de Chavailles had a great deal of pride, on the 
other hand he had no vanity, and things of that nature 
could not embarrass him ; besides, the acquaintance of the 
two young men, strengthened by the circumstances in the 
midst of which they had found themselves, had taken a 
character of intimacy which permitted these pleasantries. 

“Laugh as much as you please,” continued Coq-H6ron, 
“ my idea is excellent.” 

“So good, that I take possession of it,” said Paul £!mile. 
“Get ready, my friend Hector, to clothe yourself in silk 
and sprinkle yourself with perfumes; we will endeavor to 
transform Grenoble into an isle of Cytherea, and if you are 
in a humor to second me in my projects, there is no esca- 
lade I will not undertake. Some myrtles should console us 
for the laurels we have not gathered here.” 

While talking in this fashion, they arrived at Ouix, where 
the army was reposing. The keenness of the suffering oc- 
casioned by the wound which he had received in the wrist, 
forced the Duke of Orleans to stop some days in this vil- 
lage; the excessive depression into which he saw the Due 
de la Feuillade plunged constrained him to again take up 
the command and to multiply himself for putting in order 
the retreat of the army which the carelessness of the gen- 
eral officers threatened to transform into a rout. He suc- 
ceeded therein, and the march to Grenoble was taken up, 
which the Duke of Orleans soon entered with all his suite. 
The Due de Riparfonds, Hector and Paul Emile set out in 
quest of a suitable lodging, which was not an easy thing to 
find in a city encumbered with troops ; but the weather was 
beautiful, a good number of women showed themselves at 
the windows, the three gentlemen were on horseback 
and Paul Emile thought there was no occasion to make 

“Let us go slow, messieurs,” said he, “the city appears 
to me well inhabited ; a city which places at its balconies 
such pretty personages could not be an inhospitable city.” 

As they slowly passed by the houses. Hector, who was 
looking at the windows, saw all at once, behind a half 
raised curtain, the ravishing head of a young girl who fol- 
lowed the cavalcade with her eyes. It seemed to him that 
this countenance was not unknown to him; but where had 
he seen it ? He tried to recollect, but in vain. As he turned 
his head to see better, the young] girl, who perceived this 
movement, blushed a little, withdrew, and the curtain being 
lowered, she disappeared like an apparition. Coq-Heron 
who was walking in front, finally discovered an inn where, 
byvSqueezing a little, one could still find room to lodge. 


114 


THE ROYAL CEASE. 


“Come, messieurs, come! ” exclaimed the innkeeper, “ I 
have three rooms worthy of a god. Similar ones are not 
seen at Versailles.” 

These three rooms were fairly well furnished, but blacker 
than the mouth of an oven. 

“Well! messieurs, have I deceived you? ” said the host 
after a rapid inspection of the place. 

“No, morbleu! and you can boldly swear that there are 
none like them at Versailles, or even at Marly! ” said Paul 
ilmile. 

The host, enchanted, withdrew. 

“ Hum! ” said the Due de Riparfonds, who hesitated to 
sit down. 

“ Bah! ” said Paul Emile, whose eyes still sparkled at the 
thought of the charming faces he had seen, “does the bird 
of passage regard its nest? Take the room you prefer, I 
can content myself with one of these closets.” 

After supper, and as Hector was thinking of the face 
that had passed before his eyes like an apparition, a lackey 
entered the inn and inquired for M. de Chavailles. 

“ It is I,” said Hector advancing. 

The lackey presented a note to the Marquis and waited. 
Hector sought the signature and read the name of M. de 
Blettarius. 

“It was Christine!” he thought recalling the young 
girl whom he had seen at the window and whose counte- 
nance had puzzled him. 

The letter said in substance that M. de Blettarius, having 
recognized Hector as he was passing in the street on horse- 
back, he begged him to come to his apartments. 

“Come alone,” said M. de Blettarius in conclusion, “and 
kee]^ your visit a secret.” 

“Was I wrong to vaunt to you the hospitality of this 
city,” exclaimed Paul £mile while his friend was passing 
the letter in his pocket ; “ this has to me the air of a gallant 
provocation. Good luck!” 

While he was still speaking, a boy came to him, cap in 
hand. 

“Monsieur,” said he in a low voice, “there is a page 
down below who asks permission to speak to your lord- 
ship.” 

“ Parbleu ! let him enter.” 

“That is what he does not care to do, and if monsieur 
wishes to follow me—” 

“Eh! eh! this has an odor of adventure! ” murmured M. 
de Fourquevaux rising up. 

The boy conducted Paul Eimile to a low hall, very badly 
lit up by a torch stuck in the wall. In the middle of this 
hall the page was standing. He was small, graceful and 
well turned. M. de Fourquevaux dismissed the valet with 
a gesture and entered. 

“ Here I am,” said he, “may I ask what you desire ? ” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


115 


“ The favor of a private audience,” replied the page cross- 
ing his arms. 

The light of the torch fell perpendicularly upon his counte- 
nance; Paul Emile, astonished, looked at him. 

“ Cydalise ! ” he exclaimed; and leaped upon the page’s 
neck. 

“One moment!” said she disengaging herself from M. 
de Fourquevaux’s embrace ; ’’you have a lively way of mani- 
festing your content; the place is not propitious to this 
kind of expansion, and I take up the conversation where 
we left it off. Can you accord me that private audience 
which I have asked for ? ” 

“It is easily seen that you have never visited the palace 
which I inhabit. Come! ” 

M. de Fourquevaux, seizing Cydalise by the hand, drew 
her into the apartment which the innkeeper’s munificence 
had prepared for him. 

“Here is the place,” said he to Cydalise. 

“Diable!” said she scratching her chin, “the place is 
very ugly and not so well furnished.” 

“In addition it is the bedroom of M. de Riparfonds.” 

“ Guy the philosopher! I am gone! ” 

“And the private audience?” 

“I accord it to you.” 

“You are an angel.” 

“ You mean that I am a woman. It is remarkable that 
men never accord you this epithet except at the moment 
you no longer merit it. You are silent.” 

“ Like a dueuna.” 

“ I have left Paris incognito like a princess on a journey ; 
I must return in the same fashion.” 

“That,is understood.” 

Paul Emile took the hand of Cydalise and brought her 
back to the low hall, where he begged her to wait a mo- 
ment. When he returned to the main hall, he found there 
M. de Riparfonds talking with Hector. A lackey, armed 
with a fiambeau, seemed to be waiting till his master should 
give the signal for going to bed. 

“ Where the devil do you come from ? We have been 
waiting for you two hours! ” said M. de, Riparfonds. 

“I was talking with a page,” Paul Emile tranquilly re- 
plied. 

“A page. Are you quite sure it was a page?” Guy 
laughingly asked. 

“Forsooth! she was dressed like one.” 

“ Come ! ” 

_ “The page of which I spoke just now leaves to-morrow 
for my province; I will profit by the occasion to write to 
my parents whom I too often neglect.’,’ 

M. de Riparfonds looked at Paul Emile with a cunning 
air, rose ap and followed the lackey. 


116 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“ This devil of a man, in spite of his morality, is crafty as 
an old abbe,” murmured M. de Fourquevaux. 

“ You stav to write ? ” Hector asked him. 

“ Alas ! yes ; a half a dozen letters to seven or eight uncles 
or aunts.’* 

“Ah! you have enough to occupy you for some time.” 

“For all night. But, upon the article of relationship, I 
am intractable. It is a duty.” 

“Go ahead; I am going to the stables to glance at our 
horses; it is a care a soldier should never neglect.” 

Paul Emile drew up his chair beside a table, upon which 
there was an inkstand and some pens, and M. de Chavailles 
gained the door. He had scarcely passed the threshold when 
M. de Fourquevaux, rising up, went to the lower hall, 
called softly to the page who was shivering, threaded an ob- 
scure passage and went out through a door which he had 
observed. 

Hector, on his part, traversed the stable, passed into a 
court, opened the door and found himself in the street, al- 
most at the same time as Paul Simile, but at the other end 
of the inn. The lackey was waiting for him seated upon a 
stone ; he rose up as soon as he recognized M. de Chavailles 
and took a street to the left. Hector followed upon the 
lackey’s heels. 

“It is to the right,” said Cydalise in Paul Smile’s ear, 
“ walk quickly and follow me.” 

The page darted down a passage, and the two gentlemen 
disappeared at the same time, each in a separate direction. 


CHAPTEE XVI. 

QUEENS OF HEARTS. 

Cydalise walked straight on at a deliberate pace, fol- 
lowed, at some distance, by M. de Fourquevaux, who had 
the air of a Spanish gentleman in search of adventures. The 
page and the cavalier arrived before a house of handsome 
ai)pearance the door of which was besieged by a crowd of 
people of all conditions. Paul Emile threw a glance at the 
windows resplendent with lights, and followed his guide, 
who deftly threaded her way through this eager and noisy 
crowd. Cydalise enveloped in her cloak, passed before the 
door, turned the corner of the building and glided through 
a narrow passage toward a pavilion which two or three 
great trees seemed to protect from light and noise. At the 
moment when M. de Fourquevaux approached this pavilion, 
two women descended the perron, both of them covered 
with satin mantles; a large hood, fastened around the 
chin, prevented their features being distinguished ; but the 
first who presented herself passed before Paul Emile with 
such a gracious air, that he could not refrain from turning 


I^HE ROYAL CHASE. 


m 

his head to look at her. Her foot, supple as the wi?ig of a 
bird, caressed the earth as it touclied it, and, in spite of the 
amplitude of her mantle, one diviued the peifection of he 
form under the soft folds of the satin which envelo})e<i h- . 
On quitting the little court planted with tn-es to enter th 
passage, this fair unknown stopped under a circle of I'glit 
which fell from a torch planted above her head, and tu ned 
back as if to invite the lad}’ who followed her to haste i on. 
This movement permitted a better glimpse to be gottei! of 
her than before. 

‘"Peste!” said Paul Emile dazzled by this apj)arition, 
which suddenly vanished in the darkness. 

A gentle tap on the hand drew him from his admii ation ; 
he turned back and saw Cydalise threatening him with her 
finger. 

“Oh! ’’said he laughingly, “it is through love of art; 
you know my taste for that sort of thing.” 

“ Take care that love does not supplant taste, and that I 
do not admire Endymion while you admire Diana,” said 
Cydalise, who first frowned, then smiled, and leaped into 
the pavilion, where M. de Eourquevaux followed her. 

The attentive hand of a soubrette opened a door which 
closed the top of the stairway, and Paul Emile found him- 
self in a coquettish apartment, where a good fire was burn- 
ing. 

“Wait here for me ten minutes,” said Cydalise ; “here 
is a package of new chansons and of the freshest madrigals ; 
I will be back in a moment.” 

She disappeared behind a curtained door, called the sou- 
brette and left Paul Emile to his reflections. That gentle- 
man threw himself on a sofa by the fire and sighed. 

“It is miraculous,” he murmured, “and since Philemon 
and Baucis, nothing like it has been seen; for six months 
we have adored each other.” 

He had not arrived at the third madrigal, when Cydalise 
reappeared in her woman’s costume. If the costume of the 
page suited her well, the dress of her own sqx suited her 
still better. Cydalise was a small blonde, with blue eyes, 
admirably white, delicate without being thin, with the 
most beautiful teeth in the world, charming hands, and 
something vivacious about her which was extremely fasci- 
nating. 

“Paul Emile opened his arms; Cydalise wished to re- 
pulse him, but she could not keep from laughing, and gaily 
eml)raced him on both cheeks. 

“I have laughed, I am disarmed,” said she. 

She took one of the cavalier’s hands in her own and 
looked him in the face. 

“ I wish you to give an account of yourself, but would 
not that be very impudent ? ” said she. 

“ Oh 1 ” exclaimed M. de Eourquevaux with a great sigh, 
“St. Antony in his desert, Simeon Stylites upon his pillar, 


118 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


St. Jerome in his grotto, can scarcely be compared to me 
for virtue. I am exactly as I was when I set out.'’ 

“ Are you quite sure of it ” 

“Alas!” 

Cydalise wished to get vexed, she had to laugh. 

“It is insupportable,” said she, “ with you not even the 
resource of getting angry is left. Now, without phrases 
and impious comparisons, make your confessions in four 
words.” 

“ Well, like Caesar, I have come, I have seen, but I have 
been beaten.” 

“Is that all?” 

“ It is quite enough. Know you that after the mSUe was 
over I was touched at the idea that you had just missed 
losing me.” 

“What kindness! ” 

“ I remembered Artemise after she had lost Mausoleus, 
and this moved me much.” 

“ And that, undoubtedly, is why you look at every balcony, 
distributing your glances to all women with the airs you 
learnt at Versailles.” 

“It is necessary to let these provincials see that I know 
how to carry myself.” , 

While talking, Paul Emile was twisting the jonquil rib- 
bons before a mirror. A little lackey brought in supper 
upon a waiter which he placed near the fire, between Cyda- 
lise and her lover. The appetizing odor of a fat pullet 
mounted to M. de Eourquevaux’s nostrils. 

“ I see that the good traditions are not lost in my ab- 
sence,” said he; “ this boudoir and this tete-a-Ute malie me 
six weeks younger. I needed them. Ah! how quickly one 
ages in tliese times. Such as you see me, Cydalise, there 
are some days when it seems to me that I am my own 
grandfather: for fifteen days I have come near dying of 
ennui. One would say that the wisdom of Solomon and the 
experience of Nestor are combined in me ; I sleep like all 
the world, I no longer make debts, I never engage in duels, 
and I feel so old, that I have some desire to purchase a 
white perruque, and take the position of bailiff in some 
village of my province.” 

Cydalise burst with laughter, and M. de Fourquevaux 
imitated her. 

“ All this is going to change; I am here,” said she. 

“I hope so; but I must warn you that you will have 
some trouble,” 

“Bah! bah! you have not so thoroughly lost the habit 
of climbing balconies, that it will be difficult to teach you 
the way.” 

“A little aid is all I need,” said Paul fimile with a 
modest air. “ But you who question people so much — may 
one know through what adventure you quitted Paris ? ” 

“Ah! do not speak to me of it.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


119 


“On the contrary, let us speak of it.” 

“Well! this is the story. One morning I was taken with 
an incredible desire to see you ; at evening I set out, carry- 
ing some laces and furbelows. I believe. God pardon me! 
that you have bewitched me. Do you know that for six 
months I have been faithful to you ?'” 

” Do not say that so loud ; you will make me pass for a 
magician, and the Bishop of Grenoble would excommuni- 
cate me.” 

“ Do not jest! If it were suspected at the Comedie Fran- 
caise my repuiation would be lost.” 

“ Calm yourself, no one will ever believe it.” 

” I have done everything I could to detach myself from 
you, but have not succeeded ; each effort tightened the 
knot all the more. In short, all struggles over, I have 
taken the post.” 

“ And what will your associates at the theater say ? ” 

” What they wish.” 

“ And the superintendent ? ” 

“ He will scold at first as his habit is ; after which I will 
embrace him.” 

” That is your habit.” 

“And I will prove to him that bad treatment has caused 
me to fly, so that he will end by asking my pardon.” 

“ At least you will accord it to him ? ” 

“ It will be necessary, I am so kind ! ” 

“That is to be questioned,” said Paul £)mile with a 
singular shake of the head. 

Cydalise placed her two naked arms upon the table, and 
supporting her pretty chin between her hands, she fixed 
upon M. de Fourquevaux her humid and brilliant eyes. 

“ Is it your right to complain ? ” 

“Oh! I except m3^self! ” exclaimed Paul fimile. 

Cydalise bathed the ends of her rosy fingers in her glass 
and sprinkled a little champagne on the nose of M. de 
Fourquevaux, who was not anticipating this method of 
commencing hostilities. 

“A declaration of war!” said he; “the reprisals are 
mine.” 

He threw back his chair in order to run after Cydalise, 
who laughingly escaped him ; but the rapidity of her move- 
ment caused the flambeau to fall — and nothing more was 
to be seen. While these things were taking place in the 
pavilion of Cydalise, M. de Chavailles traversed Grenoble 
and arrived, at the other extremity of the city, before a 
house of modest appearance. When the lackey knocked, a 
light shining behind the blinds of a window on the first 
story disappeared ; he heard steps descending the interior 
stairway; and presently the door was opened. As soon as 
he had crossed the threshold. Hector recognized one of the 
valets whom M. de Blettarius had assigned to him as an 


120 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


escort, after M. de Chavailles had abandoned Brother 
Jean’s company. 

“Enter, Monsieur, enter; my master is waiting for you 
up-stairs.” 

Hector was received at the top of the stairway by M. de 
Blettarius, who extended his arms to him. The two gentle- 
men cordially embraced each other. 

“Come,” M. de Blettarius, afterward said to him, “ my 
daughter is here, to whom I wish to present you, though 
you know her already.” 

Hector followed M. de Blettarius who conducted him into 
Christine’s presence. She arose up at her father’s approach 
and profoundly saluted M. de Chavailles. She was indeed 
the young girl whom he had observed on his entrance into 
Grenoble. Five or six years of absence had transformed 
Christine. She had thoroughly developed, and had about 
her the double fascination which comes from beauty and 
from goodness. 

“ My daughter was at a friend’s house when you passed 
by, seeking a lodging; she has recognized you, and I owe 
to her the pleasure of receiving you at my home,” said the 
gentleman, pressing Hector’s hand. 

Christine blushed while her father was speaking, but she 
gracefully extended her hand to Hector. 

“You have saved my father’s life and mine,” said she; 
“could I, though very young then, forget a gentleman to 
whom we owe so much ! ” 

Hector kissed the extended hand of Christine without 
saying a word, filled with an emotion he could neither un- 
derstand nor define. M. de Blettarius had supper brought, 
and the conversation took a more intimate turn. The 
young adventurer related his history from the day of his 
arrival at Avignon to his entrance at Grenoble. Christine 
listened attentively to all he said, and her beautiful coun- 
tenance, like a clear mirror, reflected the sensations of fear 
or hope which agitated her. 

After he had finished by expressing his intention of fol- 
lowing to Paris his relative, M. de Riparfonds, who wished 
to push him at court, it appeared to him that the eyes of 
Christine were more humid, and he would willingly have 
thanked her for all the things which those eyes said to 
him. 

“Go,” exclaimed M. de Blettarius, “go, my young 
friend ; you are one of those whom fortune should take de- 
light in protecting. Under the auspices of M. de Ripar- 
fonds, and assured of the support of the Duke of Orleans, 
you can not fail to make your way.” 

“Shall I not see you there. Monsieur ? ” Hector asked. 

“ Perhaps. It depends on the news which I expect from 
there.” 

“ Do you think to hear from there soon ? ” 

“ I hope so, but I dare not count on it.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


I2l 


'"Monsieur,” gaid M. de Chavailies after a moment’s 
hesitation, “ the friendship which you have shown for me 
in other times, leads me to place at yonr service M. do 
Kiparfonds’ credit at court, if you should have need of it. 
Do not think me indiscreet in making this proposition, for 
it is born of my desire to serve you.” 

” I am not offended,” replied M. de Blettarius, and per- 
haps I may one day accept your offer, if fortune does not 
cease to persecute me. It is true that I am not sure of 
keeping my liberty.” 

“What! imprisonment! ” exclaimed M. de Chavailies who 
shivered as he looked at Christine. 

“ After some years of repose, it has pleased the intendant 
of Provence to disturb rne on account of the part I took in 
those old wars of the Fronde which caused more ink than 
blood to flow. I have fled to Grenoble, where my presence 
is known only to a few devoted friends.” 

“Do you not fear that the intendant may write to the 
Governor of Dauphiny ? ” 

“No; it is rumored that I have abandoned France; a 
seigneur of the court who wishes me well on account of a 
service I formerly* rendered him, has promised to employ 
himself in my behalf; he has some credit and I am waiting 
here for the result of his attempts.” 

“The King will render you justice,” said Hector, to 
whom it seemed impossible that the monarch himself 
should not be interested in Christine’s father. 

“If I alone were concerned, I should leave at once for 
Versailles, and throw myself at the king’s feet. But I have 
my daughter, and the thought of leaving her alone in the 
world commands me to be prudent.” 

Christine seized her father’s hand and silently kissed it. 
Hector felt moved; it seemed to him that so long as he 
lived Christine would not be alone, even if M. de Blettarius 
payed with his head for the war which he had waged against 
the party of the king. 

The daw;n surprised them while they were still talking. 
Christine opened a window which gave upon some gardens 
next to the mountains, and the summit of the Alps suddenly 
appeared bathed in that rosy light which precedes the 
day. 

M. de Blettarius rose up. The time for separation had 
come. 

After mutual- promises to keep each other informed as to 
their whereabouts, and to see each other as often as they 
could before the departure of the Duke of Orleans from 
Grenoble, M. de Chavailies withdrew. When he found him- 
self again in the street, day was beginning to break. He 
rolled his cloak around his shoulders and made his way to 
the inn, where he counted on returning before his friends 
awoke. Almost all the houses had their windows closed, 
and no one was to be seen in the streets, except some 


122 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


market-gaideaers driving carts full of vegetables, and small 
platoons of soldiers leadirig horses to water. On arriving 
at the hostelry, Hector perceived a man envelo]>ed in a 
great cloak of Spanish cut, who came up to him at a rapid 
step. They met upon the threshold of a door which the 
valets had opened, and looked at each other. The.man with 
the cloak recoiled a step and burst out laughing. 

“Parbleu!” said he discovering himself, “since I have 
an accomplice, there is no need to take so many precau- 
tions.” Hector reddened a little on recognizing M. de Four- 
quevaux. 

“Well!” continued Paul Emile laughing with all his 
heart, “ how are your lordship’s horses ? Do they lack 
provender? It is, you know, the duty of a soldier to look 
after his steed ! ” 

“But I imagine,” replied Hector, “that the horses are 
in the same condition as your relatives. May I, in my 
turn, ask about those famous letters which were to keep 
you awake a good part of the night ? ” 

“Is it my fault if hell is paved with good intentions? ” 
exclaimed Paul flmil<^; “my resolutions were wuse enough 
but a page has come who has demolished them all with the 
end of his finger.” 

“The page of yesterday evening ? ” 

“Exactly. It seems that we have returned to the time 
of Ovid. This page has metamorphosed himself into a 
woman.” 

“ And you have followed her ? ” 

“ I bear too pagan a name not to succumb to those 
temptations. I must confess that I have never been ac- 
customed to resist.” 

“ I do not doubt it.” 

“ M. de Kiparfonds, your worthy cousin, could not have 
spoken better; unfortunately M. de Kiparfonds is asleep 
and you are not. Is there also some page in your story.” 

“No,” said M. de Chavailles seriously; and he added, 
concealing half the truth: “I’went to see M. de Blettarius 
of whom I have spoken to you.” 

The voice of Coq-H6ron interrupted them. 

“Ah! ah! here you are. Monsieur le Marquis,” said the 
old soldier leaving the inn; “ is this a suitable hour to re- 
turn home? It is a little soon for rising, but it is a little 
late for going to bed.” 

“ You are right, my friend, and in the future I am going 
to bed at seven o’clock, like the nuns, and rise at noon like 
the bishops,” Hector replied. 

“Eh! mordien ! what are you talking about ? Is a gen- 
tleman made to live like a demoiselle ? Beat around all 
night, if you wish, but warn people.” 

Hector gave his cloak to Coq-H6ron to keep him silent, 
Paul flmile imitated him, and the two adventurers mounted 
the stairway arm in arm. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


123 


“ Cydalise is charming, and you must sup with her,’’ 
said M. de Fourquevaux to his friend. 

‘‘Willingly.” 

“ Only, do not say anything about it to M. de Riparfonds. 
There are days on which your cousin is very ferocious; and 
as it pleases me to act wrong, I do not wish the vigor of his 
arguments to shake my conviction.” 

“ Be tranquil. It is not I who will keep you from com- 
mil.ting these follies, the softest ones in the world.” 

“That is what I call friendship! and since Damon has 
found Pythias,^ I can now brave M. de Riparfonds,” ex- 
claimed Paul £lmile, touched by M. de Chavailles’ words. 

M. de Riparfonds was sleeping when they entered the 
room, and they could pass unperceived. Some time after, 
the lackeys came to open the shutters, and Paul Emile 
asked the hour with the air of one who has just woke up. 
A few moments after, Guy, Paul Emile and Hector left the 
inn to go to the apartments of the Duke of Orleans who 
had preceded them to Grenoble by twenty-four hours, and 
who was still suffering from one of the wounds received be- 
fore Turin. The lackeys, who filled the first rooms of the 
house occupied by the Duke of Orleans, conducted them to 
the Prince’s apartment. A little girl who was traversing 
the garden had delayed M. de Fourquevaux a few' moments. 
As he quitted her tojrejoin his friends, he heard the rustling 
of a silk dress close to him and, turning back like a hunter 
wdio hears the flapping of a bird’s wing in the trees, he saw 
in a small corridor which adjoined the Prince’s apartment, 
a w'oman enveloped in a black satin cloak who was walking 
rapidly and at the same time holding up with her hand the 
indiscreet folds of her floating petticoat. As she went the 
unknown permitted her small foot and the calf of her leg 
to be seen. Her feet were encased in silk stockings and 
satin slippers. She passed like a flash, and disappeared in 
the thick darkness of the corridor. 

“Peste!” murmured M. de Fourquevaux, and he re- 
joined MM. de Riparfonds and de Chavailles, who had en- 
tered the Duke of Orleans’ room. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE FAVOKITE. 

The Duke of Orleans was seated before a secretaire all 
strewed with papers; a pen bathed in ink reposed between 
the thumb and index Anger of his right hand and in the left 
hand he held a letter which he seemed to be reading at- 
tentively. 

“ Hum 1 ” murmured Paul Emile admiring the grave and 
meditative attitude of the Prince; “ I might be deceived, 
if I had not seen the silk stockings,” 


124 


THE BOYAL CHASE. 


“Oh! here you are, gentlemen,” exclaimed the Prince 
rising up ; “ make yourselves at home.” 

The gesture, accent, and voice were those of a man drawn 
from an occupation in which all the facilities of the mind 
are absorbed. M. de Pourquevaux sighed as he thought 
that he had not yet arrived at that degree of perfection; 
his curious eyes searched rapidly every corner of the room, 
as if to surprise there some trace of the unknown. Her 
passage had left none, or at least every accusing indication 
)iad been made to disappear. Paul Emile raised his eyes to 
the Duke of Orleans and bowed profoundly like a scholar 
who salutes his master; his look seemed to say to him : 
“You are a skilful man and know how to do things; in 
your place, I would have left some slipper or veil. I will 
try to imitate you. Monseigneur.” The Duke of Orleans 
had too keen a glance not to remark this pantomime ; he 
looked rapidly around the room as M. de Pourquevaux had 
done, and discovering there nothing which could betray his 
secret, he returned that gentleman’s glance, and his own 
seemed to reply to him: “Seek; I have taken my precau- 
tions and you will find nothing!” This riiorning, the 
Prince, in spite of his scarcely healed wounds, in spite of 
the destruction of his hopes and the anxiety which he ex- 
perienced about reappearing at Versailles after a defeat, 
was charmingly gay; content shown tin his eyes, and he 
had the air of a Prince of fairy tales about to conquer his 
adored. He set about his toilet and the conversation took 
a lively turn. 

“ Your huTiior is such as to render an adventurer jealous,” 
said M. de Eiparfonds: “ has some courier, bearer of good 
news, arrived from Marly ? ” 

“ No; M. de Chamillart’s couriers are for M. de la Peuil- 
lade, and I thank him for it. The prowess of the son-in-law 
is enough, without having to submit to the dispatches of 
the father-in-law.” 

“ Then perhaps you have heard through the Duchess of 
Orleans that you were going to be disembarrassed of this 
thunderbolt of war? ” 

“ Oh ! no ! I have known that M. de la Peuillade had sent 
his resignation to our puissant minister, that at first he had 
thought about killing himself, and that he everywhere 
proclaimed himself the most detestable officer in the 
world.” 

“ This is the first time that the general talks like the sol- 
diers,” said Hector. 

“But the minister has not wished the son-in-law to pass 
a sword through his body; he has torn up his resignation, 
calmed the scruples of the general, and has congratulated 
him so strongly that M. de la Peuillade has consented to 
never deprive the King of his,good services.” 

“Amen! ” murmured Paul Emile. 

“ What is this ? ” exclaimed M. de Eiparfonds suddenly 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


125 


seizing a small flask which was upon a piece of furniture 
ear liitn. 

“ Weil! it is a flask/’ replied the Prince. 

“Parbleu! so I see,” 

“ What do you find about it so extraordinary as to make 
it worth the honor of an exclamation ? ” 

“ Nothing, except the odor.” 

” It is Portugese water,” replied the Duke of Orleans 
wirh a slightly embarrassed air, 

“ I smell it all around me,” exclaimed Guy, elevating his 
nose like a spaniel. 

The gesture and accent of Guy made M. de Fourquevaux 
smile, who had his good reasons for this. As to M. de 
Chavailles, he did not understand, and, to tell the truth, 
cared little; he was thinking of Mademoiselle de Bletta- 
rius, and in his opinion all that which was not Christine 
was not worth a reflection. The Duke of Orleans stirred 
in his fauteuil. 

“ Do you think so ? ” said he ; “ perhaps I have scattered 
some drops of this water upon my toilet.” 

M. de Ripaifonds shook his head. 

“ Do you permit me to speak freely ? ” he replied. 

“ Certainly.” 

“ Well, Monsieur, let me say to you that for a general of 
an army recovering from illness, you have a singular fash- 
ion of employing your time.” 

“Dame! I employ it as best I can,” replied the Prince, 
who did not wish to compromise himself before knowing M. 
de Riparfonds’ drift. 

“ I recognize this odor through having scented it in the 
Palais Royal some hundred times; your apartment has 
been recently perfumed with it, and this perfume, in con- 
nection with that marvelous gayety which you have ex- 
hibited on our arrival, leads me to suppose that we have 
disturbed a tete-a-tete without knowing it.” 

“What an idea!” exclaimed the Duke of Orleans who 
was impatiently beating the ground with his foot. 

“ It is better than an idea, it is a conviction.” 

“You are an insupportable man, and there is no means 
of concealing anything from you!” said the Prince half 
laughing, half vexed. 

“You acknowledge it then ? ” 

“ It is necessary,” 

M. de Riparfonds crossed his arms and walked the apart- 
ment, with that air which Chrysalde had when he chided 
Arnolphe. 

“ Then Madame d’Argenton is here?” said he. 

“ My faith, yes.” 

“And 3’ou have received her ? ” 

“What else could I do? ” 

“Send her away more quickly than she came.” 

“ You have a stony heart, and speak at your ease, but I 


126 THE ROYAL CHASE. . 

leave it to these gentleman : Can one easily send away two 
beautiful eyes ? ” 

“ No! ” M. cle Fourquevaux distinctly replied. 

“No,” M. de Chavailles more softly said. 

“You .hear them! ” pursued the Duke of Orleans. 

“ Young fools! ” said M. de Riparfonds. 

“They speak like sages,” said the Duke. “What! a 
woman has made two hundred leagues over horrible roads 
to see you; she has braved everything, fatigue, heat, cold 
and depression, in order to bring you some consolation, 
and, scarcely arrived, it would be necessary, following your 
advice, to drive her away without receiving her, wfthout 
speaking to her! Only African lions could have so much 
ferocity! And yet — would you believe it ?— I have had the 
courage to tell her to leave again, at once.” 

“ That is heroism ! ” said Paul Emile. “ Scipio himself, 
that warrior whose virtue we have been taught to glorify — 
would he have acted more honestly ?” 

“No, and besides, I have always supposed thatScipio en- 
joyed an usurped reputation, in the matter of continence. 
Some day it will be discovered that he had, by the aid of 
Carthaginian gold, suborned the Roman gazeteers,” added 
Paul Emile with a learned air. 

The Duke of Orleans smiled at M. de Fourquevaux’s ob- 
servation and continued : 

VThis is what I have done: Madame d’Argenton has 
come at night to my lodgings. My people are strangely 
mnde; they are tigers before the enemy and lambs before 
women. At the sight of Madame d’Argenton, the bravest 
have beaten a retreat, and from room to room, she has ar- 
rived in the heart of the place. I have found her here when 
I have returned.” 

“ And you have been delighted ? ” said M. de Riparfonds. 

“And why should I not acknowledge it? Proofs of love 
always touch me. When one has seen face to face, and 
during so many days, a man as ugly as M. de la Feuillade, 
the countenance of an amiable woman who pleases you, 
has something in it to rejoice you. I have tried to fortify 
myself against emotion ” 

“What’s the good of it? ” said M. de Fourquevaux. 

“ But the looks and smiles of Madame d’Argenton have 
soon subdued me, and when she has spoken of withdraw- 
ing, I believe that it is I who have retained her.” 

“ You committed a folly,” exclaimed Guy. 

“ It is true, but w^ho has not ? ” 

“ A beautiful reason ! ” 

“ Pretty enough, and these gentleman are going to de- 
cide about it! ” said the Duke of Orleans. 

He opened a door concealed behind the tapestry and went 
out. 

“ Good ! it is some new folly,” growled M. de Riparfonds 
between his teeth, 


THE ROrAL CHASE. 


127 


M. de Fourquevaux, who did not know Madame d’ Ar- 
genton, and whose curiosity w^as violently excited, glanced 
in the mirror to assure himself that his ribbons and lace 
w'ere all right, and turning to Guy he said : 

“Calm yourself, youth must have its way.” 

“Eh! morbleu! I know of some people w’ho still have 
their way in this respect when not so young.” 

“ Those people are very happy I ” 

Paul Emile had not finished exhaling the sigh with which 
he accompanied these words, wdien the Duke of Orleans 
came back, leading by the hand a pretty and well formed 
woman, whom M. de Fourquevaux recognized as the ap- 
parition that had charmed him. Madame d’ Argenton was 
a brunette with black eyes ; she had a mouth which only 
asked to laugh and the lively and mutinous physiognomy 
of a page. 

“Messieurs deChavailles and de Fourquevaux,” said the 
Prince presenting the two gentlemen to his companion who 
was biting her lips; “ as to M. de Eiparfonds ” 

“ My deadly enemy. Oh! I know' him,” interrupted Ma- 
dame d’ Argenton. 

M. de Eiparfonds bowed profoundly. 

“ Come,” she continued, “ acknowledge frankly that you 
have already scolded this poor Prince, whose only fault is 
that of loving me a little ? ” 

“If you w^ere one of those whom one forgets, I would 
not have done so,” replied M. de Eiparfonds. 

Madame d’ Argenton extended her hand to him. 

“ Ah! how easy it would be for you to be my friend, if 
you wished it,” said she, 

“You have so many.” 

“ Yes, too many of those for whom one does not care, not 
enough of those wdiora one desires.” 

“ Since a truce is signed,” said the Duke of Orleans, “ I 
imagine it would be opportune to profit by it to breakfast. 
If hostilities begin again after, at least we will be in condi- 
tion to combat.” 

The breakfast served, the conversation turned upon Ver- 
sailles and its illustrious occupants. Madame d’ Argenton, 
who had come directly from the Palais Eoyal, was in posi- 
tion to give some news, and each of the guests was impa- 
tient to learn those secret facts which could not be confided 
to correspondence. Between persons who wish to listen and 
and a favorite who wishes to speak, accord is easily estab- 
lished. 

“Madame de Maintenon’s expression becomes more and 
more true,” said Madame d’ Argenton, “ the King is una- 
muaable : reviews, concerts, diversions of every kind, prevail 
not against the profound ennui which possesses him. He 
fortifies himself in the intimacy of a small circle of cour- 
tiers whose number diminishes from day to day. One can 
foresee the time when no one, unless for reasons of State, 


128 


TEE ROYAL CHASE. 


cau any longer approach him. It might be said that Louis 
XIV., like an old oak, is bending under the weight of age. 
Of all that he has enjoyed, of all those intoxicating things 
he has abused, glory, military fortune, love, splendor, 
caress of genius, submission of fate, triumphs more splendid 
than those of any of his predecessors, there no longer re- 
mains to him anything but an immense sadness. He lives 
like a man who has no longer anything to expect of the fu- 
ture. He has supported the first reverses of his arms with 
a dignity and grandeur of soul which have astonished those 
who" knew him best. Is it indomitable pride ? Is it Chris- 
tian humility ? Who knows? Louis XIV. wraps himself 
in silence, and, like a wounded lion, stretches himself out in 
his grotto in order to die there; he has made himself a 
tomb in his own court, where he has buried himself alive.” 

“ It is still the modest apartment of Madame de Mainte- 
non ?” said the Duke of Orleans. 

“Yes. He has committed his soul to Father Tellier, who 
directs it as he choses, and his heart to the Due de Maine, 
who cultivates it for the benefit of his own ambition. That 
prince has taken a very high flight, but so powerful is he 
that the most inaccessible summits do not seem out of his 
reach.” 

M. de Riparfonds looked at the Duke of Orleans. 

“ Yes, yes,” replied the Duke of Orleans who did not mis- 
take the significance of this look, “there might be reason 
to grow frightened at the height of this flight, if, thanks to 
mythology, one did not recall the history of Icarus and 
Phaeton.” 

“Mythology is an instructive science,” Paul Emile 
gravely said ; “ the story of Danae is found there, one very 
useful to youth.” 

Hector did not speak, he listened ; like a navigator ready 
to traverse unknown seas, he took pleasure in listening to 
the narratives of pilots who had returned therefrom. 

“ To sum up,” continued Madame d’ Argenton, “ things 
are almost as you left them ; they weary themselves at 
Marly, where Madame de Maintenon has found her purga- 
tory; they hunt at Meudon, where Mademoiselle de Choin 
is the reigning spirit; they dance at Sceaux, where the 
Duchesse de Maine attracts a chosen circle versed in the 
art of pastorals; M. de Toulouse, our grand admiral, wishes 
to combat the enemies of the king, but is prevented by M. 
de Ponchartrain, who has tlie navy in his department ; M. 
du Maine envelopes himself in his" gravity, and under this 
gravity he conceals his formidable ambition ; Father Tel- 
lier insinuates himself into the good .graces of the king by 
secret methods ; M. de Chamillart, crushed by enres, con- 
sumes his hours in an activity without repose and succumbs 
under the burden that weighs him down ; the Duke of Bur- 
gundy, austere and pious, works in silence and divides his 
life into two parts, his love and his religion, his wife and 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


129 


God ; the Duchess shines at Marly like a star, and alone 
keeps up some gayety in a place where there is so little of 
it; adored by the king and spoiled by Madame de Mainte- 
non, she is the idol of the court, and all hearts are at her 
feet.” 

“ Does she leave them all there ? ” M. de Fourquevaux 
very tranquilly asked. 

The Due de Eiparfonds threw him a severe look, and the 
Duke of Orleans smiled with an incredulous air. 

“ But,” replied Paul Emile, “ a princess is none the less a 
woman.” 

“ Walls have ears, as Eacine said ; and, to avoid going to 
the Baistille, I will avoid replying to you,” said Madame d’ 
Argenton ; “ besides MM. de Naugis and de Manlevrier can 
inform you on that subject.” 

“ That suffices me,” said Paul Ijlmile bowing. 

“See hoNV history is written !” exclaimed M. de Eipar- 
fonds. 

“It is the good manner,” replied Madame d’ Argenton 
laughing. “Believe me, history is a prude who would 
never expose her breast, if she was not sometimes treated 
in musketeer fashion.” 

“ And thanks to her methods, behold M. de Fourquevaux 
convinced of things which are anything but proved,” ex- 
claimed Guy. 

“Thoroughly convinced,” said Paul Emile; “I hold 
these things for certain, a 'priori, as said the good Jesuit 
who taught me philosophy. Does not every one say that 
the Duchess is charming and that she is very intelligent? ” 

“You are a pagan.” 

“ Eh ! eh ! the pagans had excellent taste.” • 

“ Messieurs,” exclaimed the Duke of Orleans who was 
dying with a desire to laugh, “permit me to intervene like 
Solomon,— a king whose competence you will not question, 
my dear Guy,— and cut the dispute in half. Madame d’ 
Argenton has named to you Naugis and Manlevrier.” 

“And has refused to implicate the Abb6 de Polignac,” 
said she in a whisper. 

“ Let us suppress the one and keep the other,” continued 
the Duke of Orleans. 

“Agreed! ” said Madame d'Argenton ; “ say that I have 
half deceived myself and let it go.” 

“ Is that all ? ” asked M. de Eiparfonds, who, in spite of 
his gravity, could not keep from laughing. 

“Bah! ” said the favorite, “ the court is a universe always 
full of unexplored Americas. Assemble your recollections 
and you will understand me. There is the cabal of M. de 
Vendome which creates a great fuss, and which is not with- 
out influence on the mind of the king.” 

“Parbleu! ” said the Duke of Orleans, “M. de Vendome 
is of bastard blood, like M. du Maine; it is a sure passport 
to favor.” 

9 


130 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“Have I said nothiug to you of the intrigues of the 
Lorraine party; of the secret intrigues of the Princesse des 
Ursius, who keeps up an active correspondence with Madame 
(le Maintenon, and has, though in Spain, a hand in every- 
thing that transpires at Versailles ? And have I spoken to 
you of the great cloud of Jansenism, a cloud all filled with 
thunder and lightning? It will burst some day, and it is 
for this that Father Tellier works unceasingly,” 

“Ail this is very fine, but I do not see that it is very 
gay,” said M. de Fourquevaux philosophically. 

“Console yourself, Monsieur le Comte,” exclaimed Ma- 
dame d’Argeuton; “entire France is not enclosed in the 
gardens of Marly.” 

“ It is that which reassures me.” 

“ And besides, the devil loses nothing there. The youth 
of Louis XIV. has sown ” 

“ Happy 3muth! ” 

“ And a whole generation harvests.” 

“ This generation acts like loyal subjects.” 

“ The Cours la Keine, at Paris, knows something about 
that.” 

“ We will pay a visit to this Cours, my dear Hector.” 

Hector, called on, lowered his head in sign of assent. 

“There is no end of masked balls and promenades with 
flambeaux.” 

“ The flambeaux serve as chandeliers l^bravo ! ” exclaimed 
Paul Emile delighted. 

“And then, know well that at Versailles love is a princi- 
ple, like royalty love is dead ! long live love! ” 

• “Parbleu!” exclaimed M. de Fourquevaux, “I wish to 
drink to his health.” 

As he was filling his glass, a valet de chambre entered 
and warned the Duke of Orleans that the aldermen of 
Grenoble solicited the honor of presenting to him their 
homages. 

“Le,t us take some bottles and make them drunk,” said 
Paul Emile. 

“Aldermen!” said Madame d’ Argenton with a fright- 
ened air, “ aldermen! what are they ? ” 

“The are men dressed in black who believe themselves 
serious because they are tiresome,” replied Paul Emile. 

“ Come,” said the Duke of Orleans, “ the hour of audiences 
has struck and ennui enters.” 

“ Then I escape,” exclaimed Madame d’Argenton rising up. 

Paul Emile grabbed his hat. 

“You abandon me at the moment of danger,” said the 
Prince laughing. 

“My faith. Monseigneur, we wish to leave you all the 
honor of the triumph ; when you have beaten tlie enemv, 
we will leturn.” 

And M. de Fourquevaux, offering his hand to Madame 
d’Argenton, went out through the secret door. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


131 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE king’s highway. 

During the time which the Duke of Orleans passed at 
Grenoble in preparing the winter quarters of the army and 
putting the frontiers, menaced by the Duke of Savoy, in a 
state of defense, Hector shared his time between Cydalise, 
to whom M. de Fourquevaux had presented him, Madame 
d’Argenton in whose presence 4ihe Duke of Orleans liked to 
take refuge and who often gathered together at supper the 
Prince’s friends, and Christine, toward whom he felt himself 
drawn as a wave is drawn toward the shore. Never did 
time appear to him more rapidly or more happily em- 
ployed ; grave conversations with M. de Riparfonds, who 
instructed him in the things of the court, filled up the hours 
of promenade; he had the melancholy fancies of M. de 
Fourquevaux and the gayety of Cydalise to charm his after- 
noons; other hours fioweil away in the apartments of the 
Duke of Orleans, where the duties of his position frequently 
called him. But every time that he could he escaped to the 
house of Christine. Coq-Heron, whom these nocturnal ex- 
peditions gave fresh texts for sermons, scolded him, but one 
divined nevertheless that he would have been much worried 
if some accident had deprived his master of a happiness to 
which his fiuctuating life had so little accustomed him. As 
soon as the hour of rendezvous had ' struck, Coq-Heron 
placed two pistols in his belt, took his cloak and chided 
Hector on his idleness, when accidentally he was behind 
time; but scarcely had the valet and master set out, than 
discourses and remonstrances were in order. Then, when 
M. de Chavailles had disa])peared through the hospitable 
door, Coq-Heron, impassible as those giants who guard 
princesses in fairy tales, placed himself as a sentinel at the 
corner of the street, waited patiently for his master’s re- 
turn, with eye as vigilant as that of a falcon and with the 
handle of his rapier in his hand. Placed between the Duke 
of Orleans, Hector and Paul Emile, like a Mentor between 
three amorous T(51omaques, the Due de Riparfonds had to 
struggle against the infiuence of three Eucharises of which 
the least known was not the least seducing. Hector dreamed 
and said nothing; the Duke of Orleans obliged Guy to take 
part in the follies which he reproved, and M. de Fourque- 
vaux, more exacting, tried to demonstrate to his grave 
friend that the best thing to do, in oi'der not to lose one’s 
time— is to waste it. The time of departure finally came, o 
One evening, after the receptions and tasks of the day, the 
Duke of Orleans announced that he was going to Besaheon ; 
he was resolved that M. de Riparfonds, de Fourquevaux 
and de Chavailles should precede him to Paris; Madame 


132 


THE BOYAL CHASE. 


d’Argenton left Grenoble as she had come, one evening, at 
(I ask, and Cyclalise prepared the page’s dress in order to 
follow Paul Emile to Paris. Hector escaped and ran to^ 
M. de Blettarius’ in order to bid him adieu. 

Ciiristine was alone, leaning out at that same window 
from which he had seen the coming of the dawn, after the 
lirst night whicli had again brought them together. The 
moon which sailed a sky of infinite transparence, softened 
the shadows of the evening and s})read over the mountains, 
already carpeted with the first snows of autumn, the tremb- 
ling rays of its pale light. A light wind passed among the 
trees of the garden, which shivered and lost one by one their 
leaves blasted by the approach of winter; the icy breath of 
tiie night raised them some moments in its wandering 
fiight; they lightly touched the stone balcony, then slowly 
fell with a' soft rustling. Beyond the garden walls was to 
be seen the silent country, where was outlined in the bluish 
t;-ansparence of the night the black fringe of the pines, and 
the neighboring houses, i)luuged in the shade, framed with 
their straight lines that landscape, more pale and more calm 
tlian the face of a virgin dead in her springtime. While the 
eye followed its vague contours drowned in the waves of a 
deceitful light, one felt touched and saddened at the same 
time, as at the sight of a young invalid wliom the first frosts 
of autumn are going to harvest. Christine made a sign to 
Hector to come and place himself near her ; he supported 
his arm on the balustrade and looked at her, while she 
looked forth into the night. 

“ You are going to leave ? ” said she. 

“ Y’es,” heheplied in feeble voice! 

“Soon? ” 

“ To-morrow.” 

Christine turned to heaven her eyes dimmed as if by tears. 

“Come,” said she, “ I hear my father, and you must bid 
him adieu.” 

The next day, M. de Piiparfonds, Paul Emile, and M. de 
Chavailles followed on horse back the route which leads 
fi'oin Grenoble to Lyons. A troop of lackeys marched be- 
hind them, knives in their belts and muskets attached to 
their saddles. In addition to the two carriages that belonged 
to the three gentlemen named above, and which they made 
use of when the weather became warm, there was another 
('scorted by a pretty page whom M. de Fourquevaux oc- 
casionally rejoined at evening. M. de Riparfonds had 
frowned at first when this pretty page had dared to mix 
with them, but his gravity could not resist the sallies of the 
comedienne. Coq-Heron rode a great roan horse, scolded 
half the day and objected to everything that wms done, 
which did not keep him from being of more service than any 
of the lackeys. He \vas the quarter-master of the caravan, 
and Cydalise, who had made of him her favorite, passed the 
better part of her time in disputing with him. These dis- 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


133 


pntes commenced at breakfast and finished at supper. 
When she had made him thoroughly angry, she approached 
the old soldier, pulled his mustache, and rode away rapidly 
under pretext of commanding dinner, of which she said 
Coq-Heron knew nothing. Coq-Heron set out in pursuit, 
Paul Emile followed, and, drawn by their steeds, M. de 
Riparfonds and M. de Chavailles were obliged to do the 
same. The cavalcade passed like a storm over the route, 
and stopped only at the nearest hostelry. Sometimes Coq- 
Hcron reached Cydalise, pulled her from the saddle, and 
held her in his nervous arms. Cydalise would almost die 
with fear, but fear was not an obstacle to her gayety ; both 
of them laughed, and crying and disputing they returned to 
M. de Fourquevaux; after which, it was necessary to set out 
in pursuit of the escaped horse. 

One morning M. de*Chavailles had stopped to arrange his 
horse’s bridle, when he found himself alone* with Coq- 
Heron. 

“ By the way. Monsieur le Marquis,” the soldier said to 
him, “ I have a‘ question to ask you.” 

“Speak.” 

“What are you going to do with Mile, de Blettarius ? ” 

“ What did you say 2 ” exclaimed Hector who thought he 
had not understood. 

“I speak in good French, it seems to me, and ask you 
what you are going to do with that young lady to whom you 
paid court at Grenoble ? ” 

“ It is a pleasant question! ” replied Hector. 

“Pleasant or not, I ask it.” 

“ But when one is so happy as to love an honest girl who 
has birth and beauty, one ought to esteem oneself fortunate 
to marry her.” 

“ And that is what you have resolved on 1 ” 

“Certainly! ” 

“Beautiful resolution, which does honor to your good 
sense.” 

Hector looked Coq-H6ron through. 

“ What ugly thought are you revolving in your mind ? ” 
said he. 

“ I revolve nothing. Monsieur, I reason.” 

“Let us have your reasoning.” 

“ You have nothing. Is it true ?” 

“ Too true.” 

“M. de Blettarius has just as much as you, which you 
will agree is not enough to maintain a household. But it 
is your idea, and I know your obstinacy. Then you will 
marry her soon ? ” 

“The time is still far off,” said M. de Chavailles. 

“It will come soon enough. Children will follow, but if 
Providence forgets to nourish them, who will nourish them 
if you please ? ” 

“ Have I not sw-ord ? ” 


134 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“ Eh ! Monsieur, if you have a sword, the enemy has bul- 
lets.” 

“ I shall eudeavor to avoid them.” 

“ Bullets have no lackeys to warn people. I know of 
greater men than you whom they have carried off like 
blades of straw.” 

“ A very pretty comparison.” 

“ It may not be pretty, but it is certainly true.” 

“You also indulge in prophecies like the gip35\” 

“ Monsieur,- 1 am a soldier and talk like a soldier. If you 
wish to jest, say so, and we shall laugh.” 

“Oh no!” 

“ Then, Monsieur le Marquis, permit me to say to you 
that when one has, like you, only the cloak and the sword, 
one thinks not of marrjung, like the troubadours, a poor 
girl whose only dowry is a pretty figure.” 

“ That is a-s good a dowry as any.” 

“ That depends, on the hours. But in the morning, when 
one desires to breakfast, the figure no longer suffices.” 

“ Perhaps you are right,” Sfiid Hector laughing. 

“Parbleuf I am always right! Because a young girl 
loves you — is that a reason to condemn her to misery all her 
life?” 

“ Your reasons decide me, and I will never marry anyone 
except a very rich widow.” 

“ That is to say you will abandon Mile, de Blettarius ? ” 

“ It will be necessary.” 

“ And it is to me you say similar things ? ” 

“ And to whom should I say them if not to the Mentor 
who points out the errors of my youth ? ” 

“This is monstrous! ” exclaimed Coq-Heron in a furious 
voice. “Your words are heretical, Monseiur; and I who 
have seen you grow up do not understand the sentiments 
you express.” 

“ Are they not the reflection of your counsels, the echo of 
your wise discourses ? ” 

“ You mock me! When have I given you the ridiculous 
advice of marrying a widow? What! You renounce Mile, 
de Blettarius because she is poor and under pretext that 
you have nothing! Such sentiments are not worthy of a 
gentleman. Mile, de Blettarius loves you.” 

“ Are you sure of it ? ” 

“ Your abandonment would be the death of her.” 

“The death of her! ” repeated Hector. 

“Yes, Monsieur le Marquis; it is to be seen that you do 
not know young girls, if you doubt it. She is of noble 
blood ; her father is a worthy seigneur to whom I have never 
spoken, but whom I respect as if I had known liim for a 
hundred years. No more honest family is to be found in 
the country. Mademoiselle de Blettarius is the only woman 
who suits you.” 


THE ROYAL CHAEE. 


135 


“ You convince me, Coq-Hei’on, and I will marry Madem- 
oiselle de Blettarius.” 

“What follies you would not commit if I were not around 
to give you good counsels !” exclaimed Coq-Heron drying 
his forehead. 

At this moment Cydalise came up. She pushed her horse 
close up to Coq-Heron and said : 

“Ah! My God, what is the matter with you? You are 
as pale as a corpse.” 

“ I! ” exclaimed Coq-Heron. 

“Yes, you!” 

“ And you think I am pale ? ” 

“ Fearfully so.” 

“ It is singular.” 

“Very singular! ” said Cydalise gravely. 

Coq-Heron turned his eyes toward M. de Chavailles, who 
was w'histling a hunting air between his teeth. Hector paid 
no attention to this mute questioning. 

“ You must be sick,” added the comedienne; “do you 
feel feverish ? ” 

“ No ! I have never felt so well.” 

“ Hum! do not trust to that! how yellow you are becom- 
ing. It is frightful.- Take this and look at yourself.” 

Cydalise drew from her pocket a small mirror which she 
always had about her and presented it to Coq-Hton, who 
took possession of it. But, as he raised the mirror to his 
eyes, Cydalise deftly seized the soldier’s hat, and, spurring 
her horse, exclaimed : 

“ Behold something which will reanimate you and render 
you as fresh as a rose.” 

Cydalise sped rapidly away ; Coq-Heron swore in his 
beard, and hastened after her. In four bounds he reached 
and passed beyond M. de Kiparfonds and Paul £mile, and 
soon pursuer and pursued disappeared in a whirlwind of 
dust. Cydalise amused herself by beating the air with 
Coq-Heron’s hat, while Coq-Heron, leaning forward on his 
horse, brandished the mirror like a sword. She laughed 
like a madwoman; he swore like a pagan. At the end of 
one or two leagues, Cydalise’s horse, frightened by a pack 
of dogs which suddenly traversed the road, jumped to one 
side, and crossed a hedge which sei)arated the n)ad from a 
meadow. The violence of the movement unhorsed Cydalise 
and she rolled to the ground. Coq-Hdron was only some 
steps away; but, carried by the impetus of the roan horse, 
he could not stop in time, and Cydalise would have re- 
mained extended where she was, without aid, if a cavalier 
who followed the chase had not hastened to her. Cydalise, 
stupefied by the shock, had fainted away; her hair, de- 
tached froin the comb which retained it under her hat, was 
spread around her shoulders, and betrayed her sex. The 
stranger raised her in his arms, and, to draw her from her 
fainting spell, threw some drops of water on her face. Coq- 


136 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


Heron, who had finally succeeded in mastering his steed, 
and M. de Fourquevaux, who had gallop^ after Cydalise, 
arrived almost at the same time. Paul Emile hastily got 
down from his horse. 

“It is nothing. Monsieur,” said the hunter to him; 
“ Mademoiselle is already opening her eyes.” 

lu fact, Cydalise opened her eyes, and, seeing around her 
M. de Fourquevaux and Coq-Heron who were looking at her 
with a disturbed air, a stranger who sustained her, and her 
horse browsing tranquill}^ upon the grass, she understood 
everything and leaped to her feet with an elasticity which 
showed that her limbs were still intact. 

“ The devil take you! ” exclaimed Coq-Heron as soon as 
he saw her standing up. 

“Thanks, my friend, I belong to the family, and the 
devil is not likely to carry off his cousin,” replied the 
comedienne laughing. 

“ I believe, upon my word, that you had frightened me,” 
said the soldier with a morose air. “ Here is your mirror; 
give me my hat.” 

The stranger trembled when he heard Coq-Heron ’s voice, 
and, turning toward the soldier, examined him curiously. 
Coq-Heron paid no attention to him and ran to pick up his 
hat, which was hanging to one of the branches of tlie 
hedge. The weather suddenly changed, and wdien M. de 
Piparfonds and M. de Chavailles arrived, some drops of 
rain began to fall. The carriages were some distance off ; 
Cydalise, in spite of -her gayety, had need of repose, and no 
inn was to be seen in the neighborhood. Hector and Guy 
had leaped over the hedge on seeing Cydalise so pale, sup- 
ported on the arm of Paul Emife. The stranger turned at 
the noise which the horses made by striking the earth with 
their feet, and could not repress a gesture of surprise on 
seeing Hector. His eyes went from master to valet with a 
singular expression of satisfaction, inquietude and some- 
thing more all mixed together. 

“Eh! messieurs,” said Coq-Heron, completely reassured 
as to the results of the accident, “ while you are compli- 
menting Mademoiselle upon her address— for it must be 
admitted that no one was ever so admirably awkward — the 
rain is falling and we shall soon be wet thiough to our 
bones if we do not seek some shelter.” 

“ AVell, to horse! ” said Guy. 

“ Messieurs,” said the stranger courteously saluting the 
company, “the first hostelry is three leagues from here, 
and Mademoiselle is not in a state to support the fatigue of 
so long a journey. There, behind that curtain of trees, you 
will find the habitation of a seigneur who gave me hospitality 
yesterday, and who will be charmed to offer you it to-day.” 

“ Let’s seek the habitation,” replied Paul Emile. 

They saluted the stranger, and having remounted their 
horses, followed him in the direction which he pointed out. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


137 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE NEPHEW OF A GREAT MAN. 

The cavalier who preceded Cjxlalise, MM. de Eiparfonds, de 
Chavailles, de Fourqnevaiix and their followers, was a man 
of about fort.y years of age. He was of medium height, 
well formed, vigorous, and with a certain air of distinction. 
He was clothed in a coat of somber color and rode his horse 
with ease and grace. In spite of the surprise he had shown 
at the sight of Hector, he saluted him as he would have 
saluted a stranger. As soon as they had passed beyond a 
stream on the banks of which there grew a row of trees, 
they perceived, at the bottom of a hill, a large chateau sur- 
rounded by vast gardens ; the chateau ancl gardens were 
alike magnificent. When the cavaliers drew up before the 
principal gate, the guide .said ; 

“ You are at the Due de Mazarin's; I see him in his gal- 
lery, and I am going, if you permit it, to conduct you to 
him.” 

The gate revolved upon its hinges, and the cavaliers en- 
tered a large court where numerous lackeys made haste to 
receive them. The master of the place, on seeing this cav- 
alcade which stopped at his home, advanced to the perron 
of the chateau, and, hat in hand, in spite of the rain, po- 
litely saluted his guests. 

“ Welcome,” said he, “ this chateau and all that it con- 
tains are at your disposal.” 

M. de Eiparfonds introduced himself and his friends. At 
tlie name of the Marquis de Chavailles the stranger looked 
closely at Hector as if he wi.shed to engrave his features in 
his memory to remember him at some future time. 

“Enter, messieurs,” said the Due de Mnzarin, “ I hope 
the weather will continue bad so as to constrain you to re- 
main here some days at least.” 

M. de Eiparfonds thanked him for his courtesy, and thej’’ 
followed the Duke into a magnificent gallery ornamented 
with statues of great value and rare pictures, where M. de 
iNfazarin begged his guests to wait till their apartments 
were I'eady. 

“ This is strange,” said Paul ilmile, while Cydalise and 
her friends dried their clothes at a great fire which was 
burning in a chimney of sculptured marble; “ the statues 
are of a marvelous beauty and the pictures appear to me as 
those of the best Italian and Flemish masters, but the 
.«^tatues are mutilated and the pictures smeared. Here is a 
nymph of Corregio of which only the hands .and feet are 
visible.” 

Guy looked over the gallery; Hector and Paul Emile 
made the tpur of it; the most pitiless hammer had struck 


138 


THE. ROYAL CHASE. 


the statues, the most barbarous pencil had soiled the pic- 
tures. Naiads, Virgins, bacchantes, satyrs. Adonises, 
Cupids, Venuses whiter than lilies, nymphs extended 
among the reeds, wandering Endymions, mythological 
rivers, fauns, heroes and demi-gods, courtesans of Titian, 
sirens of Albania, all tlie masterpieces of brush and chisel, 
saddened the eyes with the spectacle of their multilation. 
The stranger smiled. 

“This surprises you, messieurs,” said he, “ and never- 
theless what you see is nothing to what you will see.” 

“Ah! he makes promises! ” said Cydrdise. 

“Be assured, rnadame,” said the stranger, “that, in the 
matter of extravagances, the fantasy of M. de Mazarin will 
surpass all that your imagination can dream. His uncle 
through marriage, — M. le Cardinal, — said in speaking of 
Madame de Chevreuse that if three women of that char- 
acter mixed in politics, it would be impossible to govern the 
kingdom. One might say of the Duke, that if three seig- 
neurs of his disposition mixed in the administration, the 
kingdom would be ruined in three years.” 

“ He is a madman then ? ” asked Paul £lmile. 

“ He ! not at all, he is a man of great good sense, well edu- 
cated, full of taste, pious, modest, obliging, of an approved 
courage and enjoys the king’s favor to a singular extent. 
But ail these qualities give way before a singular whim of 
his mind.” 

“ What’s the use of so many virtues when they are over- 
thrown by one defect! ” said Cydalise. 

“ You know that this seigneur, so]%of the Due de la Meil- 
leraye, was adopted by the Cardinal, who gave him his 
name with one of his niece’s. He is the richest subject of 
the king; he has millions by dozens; he does not know 
the number of his chateaux ; he has had the government of 
ten provinces; and, whatever he does, he will never succeed 
in squandering the totality of his means.” 

“Hum!” said Cydalise, “I know of some people who 
would dissipate the whole.” 

“Not better than he, nor more quickly,” replied the 
stranger smiling. 

M. de Fourquevaux was going to address new ques- 
tions to the stranger, when M. de Mazarin returned fol- 
lowed by several lackeys, and requested his guests to retire 
to their apartments, where they would find all the commo- 
dities necessary to refresh themselves and change their 
toilet. After a collation, M. de Mazarin invited his guests 
to traverse the chateau and the gardens; the rain had 
ceased and a fresh breeze was blowing. The sun was sink- 
ing toward the horizon where waves of coppery clouds were 
piled upj the woods were resplendent with those warm tints 
which autumn lavishes on ti\e plains, and the fresh odors 
which the rain had generjited in the grass floated in the air. 
^‘Ptirfoleur' smd Paul Kmile rubbing his haucls, “we are 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


I3i) 

ipfoing to see deinoDstrated those extravagances of which 
yon have spoken.” 

“ I do not know,” replied the stranger to whom M. de 
Fonrquevaux addressed himself, while'M. de Mazariii was 
leaviiig the apartment; “ but I guarantee in advance that 
your expectation will not be deceived.” 

“ By-the-way, Monsieur,” said Paul flmile, “ I have had 
tlie honor of thanking you for the cares which you have lav- 
ished on Mademoiselle Cydalise, but I have neglected to ask 
to whom we owe this good fortune of having found so good 
a lodging. You know who we -are, and my friends and 
myself will be charmed to demonstrate our gratitude to 
you.” 

Hector and Cydalise bowed, as did M. de Riparfonds. 

“ My name, messieurs,” replied the cavalier, ” I regret to 
conceal from you ; certain family reasons oblige me to take 
this course for some time yet; but we shall meet again.” 

The stranger emphasized these last words by a smile and 
an accent wliich might be interpreted in a hundred different 
fashions; but in which the three gentlemen saw a proof of 
the extreme desire which he had to cultivate their acquaint- 
ance. They saluted the stranger, who pursued : 

“But if, to facilitate the conversation, you wish to call me 
chevalier, you will give me a title to which I have some 
right.” 

“ Well! Monsieur le Chevalier, permit me to hope that a 
day will come on which we can get better acquainted with 
each other.” 

“ It’s my keenest desire,” replied the stranger pressing 
the hand which M, de Pourquevaux extended to him, but 
looking at Hector. 

The corhpany followed M. de Mazariu into the court, where 
Cydalise remarked a carriage of singular form, which was 
guarded by four lackeys dressed in black. Cydalise ap- 
proached one of tlie lackeys. 

“ Can you tell me,” she asked, “ what use this carriage is 
put to ? ” 

“ It belongs to the Duchess,” replied the valet. 

“ M. de Mazariu tiien is not a widower? ” 

“On the contrary, the Duchess died some thirty years 
ago, more or less, I do not know.” 

“ And this is the carriage she used during her lifetime; it 
is droll enough.” 

“Eh! madame, the poor Duchess makes use of it only 
since her death.” 

“ Ah ! !ny God ! but is a history of a ghost that you are re- 
lating! ” 

The lackey burst out laughing. 

“Oh!” he" said, “it is a question of neither ghost nor 
phantom : Madame de M.azarin is dead, but that does not 
keep her from traveling a great deal.” 

“ Explain yourself.” 


140 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“Madame de Mazariu is in there,” continued the valet 
designating the carriage. 

“ In that box,” said Raul Emile. 

“Yes, Monsieur; the Duchess’s body is inclosed in a good 
oak coffin. The Duke went to England to get it, where 
Madame de Mazarin died.” 

“ A good husband! ” murmured Cydalise. 

“ After which,” continued the lackey, “ M. de Mazarin lins 
put the defunct in this carriage, and has left for one of his 
estates. The husband goes before and the wife follows be- 
hind.” 

“So that they travel together like good spouses.” 

“ To make up for lost time ])erhaps, since this rarely hap- 
pened to the Duchess while living. She goes from place to 
place without taking any repose.” 

“ And the Duke ? ” asked Paul Emile. 

“Oh! the Duke intends to bury the Duchess in some 
church, but the difficulity is in bringing the matter to his 
attention.” 

Cydalise thanked the valet and rejoined her friends. 

“Come,” said she, “ I see that the chevalier has not de- 
ceived me. I have not yet seen, in the comedies in which I 
have pla3’ed, anyone to equal M. de Mazarin in origin- 
ality.” 

The park which they visited was full of great trees beaten 
down by the wind or dead of old age; the fountains no 
longer spouted ; tlie elms extended their branches on ail 
sides ; the moss wais attached to the marble vases ; as to the 
statues, they bore the trace of the same mutilation as had 
been remarked among their sisters of the galieiy. Disorder 
and abandon were every whei’e. As the^" were tiaversing a 
quincunx, M. de Mazariu encountered his intendant. 

“ Well! ” said he to him, “ what news ? ” 

The intendant raised his eyes to heaven and showing to 
the Duke a paper which he had in his hand, replied ; 

“If Monsieur delays in conliding thedefenseof his rights 
to a procureur, we may lose a process in which justice and 
equity are on our side.” 

“ Why do you speak of a procureur and why do you wish 
me to defend myself V ” exclaimed M. de Mazarin with an 
indignant air. 

.“ But,” said the intendant in a timid voice, “ to preserve 
an estate which is worth, at the lowest calculation, fifteen 
thousand livres, and which is jmurs by right of heritage.” 

“Monsieur, know that it is my duty to let Providence 
{ilone-.-if the estate is mine, I will gain the process and will 
be able to enjoy it without trouble, if I am condemned, it 
will be a proof that it was badly acquired, and I will thank 
God for having disembarrassed me of it.” 

“Still, if one aided Providence, it seems to me that one 
would do no harm,” hazarded the intendant. 

“It would be impious! ” exclaimed the Duke. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


141 


The intendant did not breathe a word and retired. 

“Ah ! poor man who believes that Providence and terres- 
trial Justice have something in common!” growled Paul 
Emile between his teeth. 

The promenade was prolonged some moments still after 
which M. de Mazarin turned to his guests and said : 

“This is the day on which my people draw the positions 
which they are to fill during the month ; the hour of the 
drawing approaches; if you permit it, messieurs, we shall 
return to the chateau.” 

M. de Mazarin’s employees were assembled in the great 
hall; two boxes were brought lilled with small pieces of 
paper. A secretary wrote out the names of tlie servants 
upon slips of paper. On other slips of paper were written 
the various positions in M. de Mazariu’s household. These 
divers preparations finished, a little boy of eight or ten years 
was brought in. He drew a slip of paper from the box con- 
taining the names. It was the name of. a hostler; accident 
made of him a cook. As the results were made known they 
were greeted with half-stified bursts of laughter. In a 
half an hour stable, kennel, kitchen, and office were over- 
thrown. When the drawing was over and the servants had 
gone, M. de Mazarin said : 

“What I have done is in order to avoid Jealousy and to 
maintain humility among these people. Those who com- 
mand one month know that they will have to obey the fol- 
lowing month, and those who obey have the hope of com- 
manding in their turn; sq that the most perfect accord 
reigns among them.” 

“ I admire the proceeding,” said Hector, “ but how does 
it suit the service ? ” 

“Some little inconveniences result from it; but they 
effect the details, not the service as a whole.” 

“ Besides, perfection is not of this word,” replied Hector. 

But M. de Fourquevaux, who was not specially pleased 
by all this philosophy, began to grow frightened at the 
thought of a dinner prepared by hostlers and coachmen. 
He drew Coq-Heron to one side, whose culinary talent ho 
had been able to appreciate before Turin, and begged him 
to watch over the pots. ^ 

“It concerns our health, my friend,” he said to him; 
“you know that my stomach is extremely delicate ; if you 
see anything wrong about the preparations, throw the 
plates through the windows and bravely take possession of 
the kitchen.” 

Coq-H6ron promised M. de Fourquevaux to keep an eye 
on everything, and left him somewhat reassured. After 
the dinner, which was found to be very good thanks to 
Coq-Heron’s intervention, the company spread itself in 
the gardens illuminated by a beautiful moonlight, and Paul 
Emile, whom the warmth of the Duke’s wines had disposed 
to be bucolic, escaped with Cydalise, who was not of a dis- 


142 


THE ROYAL Cl FA EE. 


position to let her shepherd pine all alone. IM. de Eipar- 
londs talked war with M. de Mazarin, who spoke of it like a 
man wlio has seen and taken part in it. Left alone, Hector 
wandered around a basin on which the moonlight played, 
ami indulged in dear and tender reveries which were 
troubled only by the arrival of the chevalier. 

“ I disturb yo\i perhaps ? ” said he when M. de Chavailles 
raised his eyes iQ him, and acting as if he were going to 
retire. 

“ No, I was thinking of nothing,” replied Hector 

“ Then you were dreaming of what was dearest to you in 
the world.” 

Hector smiled. 

” Have you the gift of second sight ? ” said he. 

“No; but I encounter you alone on the border of a 
marble basin ; the blonde Phoebus admires herself in the 
water which quivers like a virgin touched by invisible lips; 
you are alone, you dream in the midst of this sleeping 
nature where the breath of the wind passes like a sigh ; 
unite all these symptoms and tell me if it is difficult to read 
what is passing in the depth of your heart ? ” 

“It is true,” said Hector, “ the night is beautiful and I 
am twenty-live : behold my excuse.” 

“ What need have you of it ? To love ! That is all of life. 
It is the only joy which consoles us, and if everything is 
illusion here below, better the kisses of a siren who intox- 
icates you and puts you to sleep than the pale cares of an 
ambition which exhausts' and corrodes you. I know of no 
other wisdom than love, and it is the only thing which in 
any way gives us the key to this terrestrial journe}’’ in 
which tile soul, like a traveler in haste to arrive at his home, 
fatigues itself in pursuing dreams. Love with all your 
strength and with all your heart; a time will come when 
your heart will be extinct, and you will have for consoling 
you oidy your recollections. One supports the winter only 
because one recalls the springtime.” 

“It seems to me,” said Hector looking attentivel}" at the 
chevalier, “ that I have already heard your voice. Where 
and at what epoch I do not know.” 

The chevalier fixed his piercing eyes on Hector, whose 
countenance the moon lit up and left his own in the 
shadow. After a moment’s silence the chevalier replied : 

“ It is possible that we have already met. I have traveled 
much; I have seen Provence, Italy, Flanders, Belgium, 
Spain, Languedoc, and a part of Germany.” 

“It is perhaps at Rome, Marseilles, Milan, or Venice; in 
some regiment, if you have served.” 

“ Yes, in the Palatinate and in ]\Iilan.” 

“ It is in the latter, no doubt, that I met you.” 

“Well! if you go to Versailles, as I believe you intend, 
we shall come across each other again,” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


143 


“ M. de Kiparfonds, my cousin, is going there, and I ac- 
company him.” 

“ He is highly esteemed ; no one is better able to produce 
you at court than he.” 

“But you, Monsieur le Chevalier, do you not intend to 
present yourself there ? Think not my question indiscreet; 
it springs from my desire to cultivate an acquaintance so 
happily commenced.” 

“ I will frankly answer that such is my design.” 

“ Then, we shall not fail to meet there.” 

“ I would find an occasion if it did not present itself,” re- 
plied the chevalier in a tone in which there was something 
more than politeness. 

“ If you need any assistance at court, the Due de Kipar- 
fonds will be glad to oblige you,” said Hector. 

“ Thanks for your offer; but I have a letter, and I hope 
that it will suffice me.” 

Hector did not reply, not knowing if it would please the 
chevalier,to push his confidence further. 

“It is for Father Tellier,” added the chevalier, “ and 
from one of his best friends.” 

Though this phrase was very simple, the chevalier gave 
it such a singular accent, that Hector trembled. He looked 
at his interlocutor. 

“ Father Tellier! the King’s confessor ? ” said he. 

“Yes.” 

“ He is said to be all powerful.” 

“He is a priest, Monsieur.” 

This laconic reply was an enigma to the Marquis, and the 
chevalier’s tone did not render it clearer. It might be 
taken for an affirmation as well as for a negation. Did the 
chevalier regard a ])riest as everything? or as nothing? 
Did he see in Tellier the humble servant of God or the con- 
fessor of Louis XIV.? This M. de Chavailles could not 
understand, and he did not dare to question the chevalier 
about it. The conversation took another turn, and quite 
naturally they spoke of the disastrous campaign of the 
French army in Italy, which led Hector to speak of his ad- 
ventures since his departure from the Chateau-des-Dames. 
Without appearing to question him the chevalier induced 
him to speak of the most salient points of his existence. To- 
gether they went and came along the marble basin, and 
either through accident or design, th§ chevalier always 
kept the shady side. The chevalier pretended to narrate 
the incidents of his life, but when he had finished Hector 
found out that he knew as little of him as before. The 
chevalier had given him many cliarming details, but none 
of the essential facts calculated to explain his identity. 
The conversation had led them very far, and they were 
thinking of returning to the chateau, when a blaze of light 
attracted their looks toward a groat pavilion close to tho 
main entrance of the (;ouit. 


144 


TNE ROYAL CJTASE. 


“It is a fire !” exclaimed Hector; and he ran te the 
chateau to sound the alarm. 

The chevalier tranquilly followed him at a distance, with 
his right hand supporting his chin, like a poet who seeks a 
rhyme. 


CHAPTER XX. 

FROM NEVERS TO PARIS. 

When M. de Chavailles arrived at the chateau, some 
frightened valets were running in all directions calling for 
aid. Lackeys and grooms, awakened in surprise and im- 
agining that the lire was everywhere at the same time, es- 
caped half-nalced, some leaping through windows and others 
breaking in doors to get out the more quickly. In a mo- 
ment the court was full of people; each one gave orders, 
but no one moved. Hectors intervention changed the 
aspect of things. A part of the men present were directed 
to the cascades and basins to establish a chain by which to 
transport water; others, armed with picks, cut on the com- 
munications between the pavilion and the other buildings. 
Hector wi\s assisted by M. de Riparfonds and M. de Four- 
quevaux. Cydalise, enveloped in a mantle, clapped her 
hands at the sight of -the terrible and imposing aspect 
which the fire presented. The chevalier threw at it an im- 
passible look. Once he approached Hector. 

“Why do you give yourself so much trouble ? ” he said 
to him with the smile of a man who assists at the repre- 
sentation of a comedy. 

The question appeared singular to M. de Chavailles. He 
pointed out the pavilion in flames. 

“Does not that reason appear sufficient to you ? ” he re- 
plied. 

“Bah! ” said the chevalier shrugging his shoulders. 

And he tranquilly moved away. M. de Mazarin, who 
was sleeping in an apartment some distance from the pa- 
vilion, was tlie last to learn what was taking place. He 
suddenly arrived in the court in a robe de chambre, a cane 
in his hand, and, without warning any one, fell upon those 
who were working to extinguish the fire. The lackeys and 
farm boys dispersed like wild geese at the shot of a hunter. 
M. de Mazarin’s action had been so brusque and so violent, 
that M. de Chavailfes perceived it only on seeing the valets 

fly* 

“ Monsieur,” said the Duke going up to him, “ if fire has 
seized that pavilion, it is because it pleased Providence. 
To seek to extinguish it is to oppose his decrees, and that 
is an impiety I will never suffer.” 

Stupefied, M. de Cha.vailles bowed without replying. 

“ Well 1 ” the chevalier said to liim, “ was I wrong to ask 
you why you took so nmcli trouble ? ” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


145 


“Y«u should have explained yourself, Monsieur, and I 
would have crossed my arms.” 

“Perhaps! There are things which it is necessary to 
have seen to believe in them.” 

Cydalise, informed of M. de Mazarin’s action Paul 
fimile who had heard everything, laughed like a true sou- 
brette of comedy; M. de liiparfonds looked at M. de Maz- 
arin, not understanding that so much lolly could be joined 
to so much sense, and M. de Mazarin looked at the lire, 
nov/ decreasing. 

“You have disturbed it! ” said he with a sigh, perceiving 
that the flames gradually diminished. 

“It is vexatious! ” replied Paul Emile. 

M. de Mazarin turned to him with an afflicted air. 

“If that small building had not been torn down,” said 
he, “ the fire would probably have reached the chateau.” 

At this moment a heavy rain began to fall. This rain 
slightly soothed M. de Mazarin’s mind. 

“Come!” said he, “we must believe that divine Provi- 
dence did not wish t!ie chateau to burn to-night.’’ 

The next day when M. de Chavailles and his friends 
gathered together at the dinner hour, they perceived that 
the chevalier was not with them. 

“Oh! do not seek him ; he has gone,” said Coq-Heron. 

“ You have seen him ? ” asked Paul Emile. 

“Yes, at day-break this morning; I entered the court as 
he was setting foot in the stirrup.” 

“ This is a rather brusque departure,” exclaimed Guy. 

In spite of M. de Mazariii’s entreaties, his guests took 
leave of him at noon. The weather had become beautiful 
again and they were in haste to continue their journey. 
When the three gentlemen found themselves upon the road 
again, the conversation fell back upon the chevalier. Vari- 
ous opinions were expressed by M. de Chavailles, M. de 
Riparfonds and M. de Fourqucvaux, after which Cydalise 
was asked hers. 

“Oh! he is a horrible man,” exclaimed the comedienne. 

“ Give us your reasons,” said M. de Riparfonds. 

“ Well, when I have fallen from the horse, M. le Chev- 
alier was the first to come to my aid.,” 

“He is a gallant man,” said Paul Emile. 

“Wait! the gallant man has knelt down in the grass to 
raise me in his arms; my hair had become untied, aiid 
lie saw that I was a woman, in spite of my page’s dress 
Now, you will agree that I am not ugly ; it is even said 
that some of the prettiest women envy my mouth and 

“ They could not betteb prove their good taste,” said 
Hector. 

Cydalise smiled and continued ; ^ ^ , 

“I was alone, fainting, a.ixl iialf exbmded in uis arms. 
Well! ho IpiS not even kisscfl rny hiind.” 

10 ^ 


146 


THE liOYAL CHASE'. 


“Not even your hand! ” exclaimed Paul £mile with an 
astonished air. 

“ I wish only this trait to know a man. Learned and elo- 
quent, say you ? I say that a gentleman does not conduct 
liirnself in that fashion.” . 

“It is perhaps a demonstration of respect,” murmured 
M. de Fourquevaux timidly. 

“ His respect iS" impertinent.” 

“ I surrender,’’ replied Paul Lmile. 

Some days after this conversation the three gentlemen 
and Cydalise entered Paris and M. de Chavailles descended 
at M. de Riparfonds’ hotel, situated in the Rue St. Honore, 
near the Louvre. M. de Riparfonds’ first care was to place 
his cousin upon a suitable footing before presenting him 
at Versailles. 

“It does not suffice,” he said to him, “that you have 
my horses and carriages; it is still necessary for you to 
have yours. The rest of the house is yours to dispose of at 
will. You bear a name worthy of respect, and it ‘would be 
unbecoming to introduce you at court like a provincial 
who has neither money nor baggage.” 

Hector, who, in M. de Rii)afonds’ place would have 
acted the same, thanked his cousin and accepted. Coq- 
Heron charged himself with furnishing the stable, and M. 
de Riparfonds looked out for a company for sale in some 
cavalry regiment. The troops having been beaten in Flan- 
ders, he found more than twenty companies, whose cap- 
tains, half-ruined by the war, were anxious to get rid of. 
At the end of three days, he arranged for a company in the 
Saintonge regiment, which was in good condition and gar- 
risoned at Lille. Coq-Heron danced at this news. 

“We are now. Monsieur, as we were when we left Avig- 
non ; do. not gamble away your companjq as you did at 
Marseilles.” 

“Other soldiers, other manners. And besides I was for- 
tunate in losing at ombre those Avignonnais.” 

“ Why, if you please ? ” 

“Because if I had not lost that company, it is probable 
that I would play at lansquenet the regiment which I am 
going to gain in Flanders, while now the experience is over 
with.” 

Coq-H4ron raised his hands to heaven. 

“Behold your manner of reasoning, Monsieur!” said 
he. 

“It is good. Do you know the history of Polycrates, 
tyrant of Samos ? ” 

“No.” 

“ Well, I insist on your reading it in ancient history.” 

“Monsieur,” said Coq-Heron interrupting Hector, “in 
the first place tell me what connection there is between 
your comi>any and this tyrant of Samos.” 

“ Ik)lycrates, who >yfis a spiritual and gallant king, had a 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


1-17 


ring which he valued much, a souvenir of love peiimps. 
He threw it in the sea, in order to invoke the gods, ^viy 
company of Avignonnais, was my ring, and that is why I 
have lost it.” 

On their arrival at Paris Hector and Guy had made in- 
quiries among the servants of tlie hotel if the chevalier Jiad 
come to visit them. The lackeys had seen no one, and the 
chevalier was soon forgotten. Some days from this time 
M. de Riparfonds’ valet de chambre pointed out to M. (le 
Chavailles a man in a gray cloak who was turning the cor- 
ner of the Rue de Chartres, and snid: 

“There is an honest man who is a strong friend of 
yours.” 

“Friend of mine ? ” exclaimed Hector. 

“ Yes, Monsieur le Marquis.” 

“But I do not know him.” 

“That is singular. He inquires about your health eveiy 
day and appears delighted to know that you are well. It 
so happens that he always arrives when you are not here.” 

“ Why does he not wait ? ” 

“ That is what he has done for three-quarters of an hour, 
after which, seeing that you did not return, he has gone 
away. And it is exactly at this time that Monsieur has ar- 
rived.” 

“Well, I am going to spare him the trouble of return- 
ing.” 

Hector ran toward the Rue du Chantre, entered it and 
saw at the other end the man with the gray cloak. 

“Hey! friend I ” exclaimed M. de Chavailles. 

The man turned his head ; but either he did not recognize 
M. de Chavailles or did not think he was the man ad- 
dressed. At any rate he kept on walking. Hector followed 
Jiim, but when he arrived at the end of the Rue du Chantre, 
the man with the gray cloak had disappeared. M. de 
Chavailles vainly traversed the neighboring quarter— he 
discovered nothing, and returned to M. de Riparfonds’ hotel. 

“You say this friend comes every day to inquire about 
my health ” said he. 

“ Oh ! he even came before your arrival.” 

“ What! so soon ! ” 

“ I tell you that he professes for your lordship a singular 
esteem. He asks innumerable questions about you.” 

“You will oblige me by making some of them known to 
me.” 

“Oh ! it is very simple. All that which concerns you inter-' 
ests him. He has wished to know what persons you visit, 
who were your most intimate fiiends, if you went out in the 
evening, what day M. de Riparfonds had chosen for your 
presentation at court, if you were pleased with Paris, if 
Coq-Heron was still with you, if you intended to leave f«)r 
Flanders before the opening of the campaign, if you receive 
letters from the province, and when. These questions are 


148 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


always accornpauied by tlie most magDificent eulogies of 
your character and the qualities of your heart.” 

“ But has this questioner told you his name ? ” 

“Never.” 

“ That of his master ? ” 

“No.” 

“Well! ” said Hector, “ if he presents himself again, de- 
tain him and inform me. I wish to speak to him.” 

M. de Chavailles went away, not understanding this visit, 
but persuaded that the man with the gray cdoak had 
adroitly made M. de Eiparfonds’ valet talk, under color of 
friendship. He was not of a character to think long about 
it, when the same evening, taking supper with Cydalise, 
the comedienne asked him if he had not formerly fought a 
duel in his province. 

“ M. de Fourquevaux has then told you that story?” 
said he. 

“No, really,” she replied. 

“ Then how have you learnt it ? ” 

“Do not ask me,” she replied with a slightly embarrassed 
air; “perhaps one day, if it is necessary, I will tell you. 
Let it suffice you to know that I am not the only one at 
Paris informed about it.” 

“The affair made some noise when it took place ; but it 
happened so long ago that it must be forgotten.” 

“ Do not believe it. I can tell you, in confidence, that 
certain persons recollect it and occupy themselves about it.” 

“Ah bah!” 

Cydalise inclined her pretty head. 

. “I can tell you nothing more; but, if I may believe my 
presentiments, you have enemies— one enemy at least.” 

“ I have scarcely been here a week — who can bear me ill 
will?” 

“ Who knows ? How about the hunter we encountered at 
M. de Mazarin’s ! ” 

“ The chevalier ? ” 

“ Why not ? ” 

“ Ffave you seen him ? ” 

“No. Have you?” 

“I have not.” 

“ You know what I have always thought about him.” 

“Y^es, on account of the kiss which he has not taken. 
What folly! ” 

“Folly if you please; but that great zeal, followed by 
such great indifference, does not tend to make me modify 
my opinion.” 

“Conclude, as the members of Parliament say.” 

“ My conclusion is: Be on your guard.” 

M. de Eiparfonds entered before Hector could reply. 

“Hold yourself ready, my dear cousin,” he said to him; 
“ to-morrow we go to Marly, and I will have the honor of 
presenting you to the King.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE., 


149 


CHAPTER XXI. 

THE COURT OF THE KIN^ 

The chateau of Versailles no longer offered, in 1706, the 
spectacle which it presented to the world when Louis XIV. 
dictated the conditions of the peace of Nim^gue, after- 
Duchesne had taken from Holland its last fleet and killed its 
last admiral. The time was passed when great ministers 
maintained the splendor of the Kingdom, while the bravest 
and most skilful generals accustomed the soldiers to victory, 
astonished at being faithful to Louis as it had been to 
Caesar. That was the glorious time when each day brought 
a new triumph; when the old bells of Notre Dame grew 
weary of striking Te Deums; when the heart of Europe 
beat at Versailles; when the least caprice of that King 
who had such a high sentiment of the grandeur of France 
made the world tremble; when one knew not what was 
most to be admired — the power of his arms or the height to 
which he had carried letters and civilization. Of all this 
glory there only remained a few superb rays, — rays already 
veiled, like those of a star in its decline. The soil trembled 
under the feet of the great King, and now that he was 
growing old, fortune abandoned him. The poets were dead ; 
to the ministers who had propelled the State toward pros- 
perity and abundance, like a peaceadle vessel which floats 
upon a tranquil sea, had succeeded unskilful secretaries 
whom the menaces of the present frightened. Conde, 
Turenne, and Luxembourg were no more, and in place of 
those great captains, there was La Feuiilade or Villeroy ; 
disgrace had struck Vauban and Catinat, the only warriors 
who could still take rank with those of other European 
nations, and to resist Prince Eugene and the Duke of 
Marlborough, only Vendome anR Villars were left, the latter 
enfeebled by maladies, the former already old. What had 
become of all those eminent minds which the breath of 
God had multiplied around the throne like ears of corn in a 
fertile fleld ? Where were those choice spirits who had 
made the world believe that the century of Augustus had 
come forth from its pagan tomb to decorate Catholic France 
with all its pomp, with all its splendor, with all its elegance ? 
Where were those thinkers, those tragedians, those philos- 
ophers, those Christian orators, those soldiers, those minis- 
ters, those admirals, those poets, those famous artists, ail 
those men kneaded with the purest of the divine substance, 
from Bossuet and Moliere, to Lenotreand Mansard ? They 
had gone with the youth of Louis XIV., and now the winter 
of his life saw the decadence of his granaeur and the de- 
cline of his royalty. Pomp still reigned at Versailles ; but 
Strong, active, powerful, generous life, life thrilling and 


150 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


salutary seemed to have withdrawn from it. An immense 
concourse of great- lords, of courtiers of all conditions, of 
valets, of equerries, of lackeys, a (U'owd of titled dames, 
seducing and spirtual, lilled the chateau and gravitated 
around the King, immovable and superb center of all this 
magniiicent agitation and all this zeal. But it was easy to 
see that all this concourse, in which the best families of 
Fi ance had their eldest sons, had no longer the grace and 
ardor of youth, and that time and reverses had extiugiiished 
the tires of their beautiful years. One still felt, in setting 
foot in this royal dwelling, which had seen so many passions 
born and die and from which the signal of so many divers 
events had been given, that it was still the palace of the 
greatest monarch in the w’orld, but one divined also that 
this monarch so powerful, like an oak weighed down by 
years, inciined more and more each day toward ruin. Like 
those interior waters which illter between the rocks of a 
mountain and fill the hollow of the valleys, the infinite 
sadness of the King overflowed on all sides and reached 
even the remotest confines of the court. Gayety showed 
itself there only at long intervals, and was soon extin- 
guished by this royal sadness which extended over every- 
thing like a tide. One would have said that abysses of 
regrets, of memories, of lost illusions, of profound and 
secret thoughts, were hidden in the soul of Louis XIV., im- 
penetrable to all looks. It seemed that this eldest son of 
the Kings of the earth rqvolved in himself, during the 
weighty meditation of the day, in the depth of the apart- 
ment where Madame de Maintenon and silence dwelt, a 
confused world of resentments, of unacknowledged anxie- 
ties, of mournful reflections, of those desperate feelings 
which have no end. Majesty was his like the visible seal 
of the destiny which had made him the annointed of God, 
like the invisible reflection of a supernatural force, but it was 
sad like the sea at the coming of night. Louis XIV. endured 
life like a burden ; but like an antique cedar he waited, 
without bending, till a storm should uproot him. Some- 
times Madame de Maintenon, to enliven the King, had 
played in the secrecy of her apartment some scenes from 
the comedies of Moliere intermixed with concerts; but 
these little fetes, to which only a small number of chosen 
persons were admitted, did not snatch the King from his 
incessant melancholy. The only animation of the court 
came from the Duchess of Burgundy, who, sure of the 
King’s tenderness, dared and perinftted herself almost 
everything. Brisk, active and of a charming mind, kind 
to ail, equable in her disposition, gay, obliging, loved even 
by those who dreaded her influence, animated by an 
abounding and natural grace which gave value to the least 
things, desirous of pleasing even when she could not 
serve, she warmed the glacial atmosphere of the court, 
and, like an amiable star, everywhere that she showed her- 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


151 


self, her presence brought back life and light. Thanks to 
her, it \yas still known what were balls and comedies, 
dances — in which she excelled — and mascarades. All the 
young people clustered around her, and the oldest seigneurs 
sought her company, because Her expansive joy made them 
think of the past. With her present, it was still twilight ; 
she absent, it was night. The day on which M. de Ilipar- 
fonds conducted M. de Chavailles to court, the King was at 
Satory passing in review the Musketeers, the Hundred 
Swiss, and the Regiment of the Guards, which, under the 
Due de Guiche, its colonel, had so furiously fouglit at 
Raniillies. It was still early ; the weather was bracing and 
clear and a light wind snatched from the trees of the forest 
their decoration of red leaves. A great crowd of courtiers, 
some on horseback, some in carriages, assisted at this re- 
view, where all the ladies of the court had gone to please 
the King. Everywhere there were splendid carriages, 
horses magnificently harnessed, rich liveries, open calt^ches 
and brilliant cavalcades. The arms of the soldiers ranged 
in long lines shone in the sun, and their handsome uniforms 
kept no trace of the battles wliich had torn and blackened 
them. When M. de Chavailles arrived in company with 
Paul lilmile and Guy upon the border of the wood, he saw, 
at the foqt of a clump of trees, at some hundred steps from 
the first battalions, a sedan sitting on the ground, and be- 
side this sedan, a seigneur who, standing with hat in hand, 
sometimes leaned toward the portiere to speak to a person 
who was almost invisible. Some general officers sur- 
rounded the sedan at some distance, heads uncovered, and 
ail with eyes fixed upon this sedan which attracted the 
general attention of courtiers as well as soldiers. Upon 
one of the arms in front was seated a woman young, ele- 
gant, and of a great distinction. She sometimes looked in 
the direction of the iioi'tihre^ smiled, inclined her supple 
form forward as if to seize in flight some words or to reply 
to some question, and shook her small and charming head 
with the grace and vivacity of a bird. The wind shook the 
flags and the clarions sounded ; but Hector saw neither the 
regiments nor the carriages filled with jeweled women, ho 
saw nothing of 'that military show which, under other cir- 
cumstances, would have agitated his heart and delighted 
his mind. A mysterious attraction held his looks fixed upon 
that sedan whose presence slightly astonished him. 

“Who is the seigneur,?” he finally asked M. de Ripar- 
fonds, “ standing at the portlbre and speaking to a lady 
w'hose head-dre.ss I can barely see.” 

“It is the King,” replied the Duke. 

“ Louis XIV. ! ” exclaimed M. de Chavailles. 

“Himself.” 

Hector’s dazzled eyes remained fixed upon that little 
group of three persons one of which so gloriously wore the 
crown of .France, 


152 


THE ROYAL CHA^E. 


“ Louis XIV. ! you have told me that it was Louis XIV.? ” 
he murmured quite low. ^ 

“Yes, my dear Marquis, it is the King; look at him and 
recollect what you see. Behold the master of the world and 
the lover of Mademoiselle de^'la Valliere, he of whom a poet 
has said : 

Great King, cease to conquer or I cease to icrite. 

“But,” said Hector, “is it not Madame de Maintenon 
who occupies the sedan ? ” 

“You are right,” 

“ Madame de Maintenon ! and what is she doing here ? ” 

“ Wliat was she doing at Coinpigene ? ” 

“ A question is not a reply.” 

“Sometimes. That humble sedan, by which the King 
is ^standing, attentive to the desires of the anonymous 
queen of France, serves only to prove that Madame de 
Maintenon is more powerful upon her fauteuil than Louis 
XIV. upon his throne. She is not ostentatious; she loves 
silence and obscurity; she spends her time in devotions at 
iier retreat at St. Cyr; she is simple, modest, and reserved ; 
she hardly sees anybody at all, has no home ; but on public 
occasions she is pleased to show what she is and what she 
can do.” 

“ And she can do everything ? ” 

“Everything,” repeated M. de Riparfonds. 

“You have told me nothing of that lady whom I see 
seated upon one of the arms of the sedan.” 

“ It is the Duchess of Burgundy.” 

“ The future Queen of France"! The wife of the heir to 
the throne, there, like a follower, and bowing as if to reply 
to Madame de Maintenon ? ” 

“And why not? Rid yourself of the habit of being sur« 
luMsed, my dear cousin. Let nothing astonish you, no 
matter what you see, no matter what you hear. The court 
is a sea filled with rocks where things are not what they 
seem. You can not make a step without running against an 
intrigue, and one who to you might seem to be nothing is 
an important personage before whom the boldest grow 
pale. Everyone is dependent on the king, both great apd 
small. You mount because he sustains you ; but if he with- 
draws his hand you are sure to fall. The King is the be- 
ginning and the end. To secure the royal favor you must 
bow, no matter whether you are peer, duke, or prince. 
You know the scripture: Whosoever shall exalt himself 
shall be the cast down ” 

“ And whosoever shall lower himself shall be raised up,” 
pursued Hector. 

“Well! when you shall have crossed the threshold of 
Versailles, engrave it in your mind and never forget it.” 

There was a moment’s silence during which Hector looked 
more attentively at the Duchess of Burgundy. 


THE 110 YAL CHASE. 


l53 


“You UDderstaud dovv,” continued M. de Eiparfonds, 
“ why the Duchess of Burgundy is seated upon the arm of 
the sedan which serves to carry Madame de Maintenon, her 
good aunt, as she calls her.” 

“But you who speak so well of precepts,” said Hector, 
“and who preach the observation of them, have you not 
slightly forgotten them? ” 

“ I have done better.” 

“Ah! ” 

“ I have never learnt them.” 

“ That is shorter.” 

“And that is why I am nothing,” added the Duke 
proudly. 

“Hum! Duke and peer is something,” murmured Hec- 
tor. 

M. de Eiparfonds smiled. 

“ You are warned ; you can now act as you choose,” said 
he. 

M. de Chavailles reflected some seconds, all the while 
looking at the Duchess of Burgundy; he then saw the King 
turn and call : 

“ Madame’s bearers! ” 

The bearers ran up, took the arms of the sedan and moved 
away, carrying Madame de Maintenon whom| they were 
taking back to Versailles. A quarter of an hour afterward 
the review was over and the King regained his carriage. 
All foreheads were uncovered upon his passage, and each 
time that a lady saluted him, the King, with that grand air 
and that courtesy which never abandoned him, took off his 
hat. M. de Fourquevaux had quitted Hector and Guy as 
soon as they had arrived at Satory to run from carriage to 
carriage to salute the ladies of the court and to flutter 
around the prettiest ones. When M. de Chavailles entered 
the chateau of Versailles a profound emotion took posses- 
sion of him. It was the first time that his feet pressed 
those sumptuous parquets accustomed to creak under the 
footsteps of the most illustrious personages. He could not 
grow weary of seeing and admiring this luxury, this ro3uil 
ostentation, the number and extent of the apartments, this 
singular profusion of the masterpieces of the arts and the 
order which reigned everywhere. The great gallery — the 
Gallery of Mirrors, as it was then called — was filled with 
courtiers; the greater part of them cnme to M. de Rip- 
arfonds and saluted him ; he presented to all his acquaint- 
ances the Marquis de Chavailles, his cousin, and everyone 
made haste to demonstrate by their reception the esteem in 
which the introducer was held. M. de Chaniillart passed 
by and the Duke presented Hector to him. 

“ I have already heard of M. de Chavailles,” said the 
minister, “ but the hand which presents you and the re- 
lationship which unites you to M. de Eiparfonds give me a 
high opinion of your merit. Your commission is filled out, 


154 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


and I hope that your good services will merit the King’s 
good-will.” 

The Marquis was going to reply, when two lieutenant- 
generals who had business with M. de Chamillart, came up 
and obliged him to follow them. 

At this moment the King left his room to go to mass. 
Some gentlemen approached ‘Louis XIV. to speak to him ; 
he listened to them for some seconds, replied to them with 
slight movements of his head and continued his walk; it 
was the moment when those who had asked permission 
from the captain of the guards presented themselves before 
the King; M. de Eiparfonds, whose rank made unnecessary 
this formality, approached Louis XIV. in his turn and 
sainted him, at the same time naming M. de Chavailles. 
Louis XIV. who had been warned the evening before, 
stopped and looked fixedly at the young officer. 

“ M. de Eiparfonds,” said he, “has given me a detailed 
account of what you have done at Cremona and before 
Turin, Monsieur; you bear the name of a gentleman who 
has loyally served me, and I count on j^our doing the same 
at all times.” 

“Sire, if I was not more strongly moved than I can tell 
you, I would try to answer Your Majesty ; I can only assure 
you that all my blood is yours.” 

The warmth of Hector and the animated expression of 
his physiognomy pleased the King, wfiio smiled. 

“I thank you. Monsieur. Like a good gentleman you 
have chosen the career of arms ; our armies have need of 
brave and resolute young men. Do your duty and be as- 
sured that my favor will accompany you.” 

The King courteously saluted Hector and passed on. 

“He has dazzled me! and how tall he appears to me! ” 
said Hector. 

“Eh! my dear cousin,” replied M. de Eiparfonds, “if 
the things which come from your heart are always as fiatter- 
ing your fortune is made. He tall! but he is not in the 
least so.” 

“You think so.^” said Hector, who followed the King 
with a look. 

“ He is almost of my stature, but so perfectly cUsting^ie in 
all his person, so full of dignity, with such grand manners 
and such a majestic carriage, that many others might be 
deceived like you.” 

Several courtiers had heard the King’s last words ; tlu'y 
• came up and congratulated M. de Chavailles, to whom they 
addressed many compliments. The noise of this reply 
circulated from group to group among the courtiers for 
wfiiom words fallen from the mouth of the great King were 
oracles, and arrived even to M. de Chamillart. The minis- 
ter, in retiring, came to M. de Chavailles. 

“ Your regiment is one of those which defend the frontier; 
you will have an opportunity to display your courage. I 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


155 


am M. de Riparfonds’ friend, count on my calling the 
King’s attention to an officer of your merit.” 

‘‘ Behold a merit which has come to me very quickly,” 
said Hector after M. de Chamillart had moved away. 

After dinner, while Paul Emile and Hector were talking 
with M. de Riparfonds in the little entresol which the Duke 
occupied at Versailles, they saw Coq-Heron enter, w'ho ar- 
rived all dusty from Paris. 

“ Good ! ” said the old soldier, drawing out a.silver watch, 
“ thirty- three minutes is not too long a time to make it 
in,” 

“ And why such haste ? ” asked M. de Fourquevaux. 

“ For remitting this note to the Marquis.” 

“ A note for me ? ” said Hector. 

“ Here it is. It was confided to me at three o’clock ; it is 
now about half-past three. You See that I have not spared 
the spur.” 

“ Who has given you this letter? ” asked M. de Chavail- 
les after having unsealed and read it. 

“My faith! I do not know.” 

“You have seen the person who brought it.” 

“Barel>^” 

“ An enigma! tell us about it, my friend ; I am interested 
in enigmas,” said M. de Fourquevaux, who w'as strutting 
before a good fire. 

“Oh! it is very simple.” 

“So much the worse.” 

“I was tranquilly looking at a company of Monsieurs’ 
dragoons defiling before the door, when a lackey came to 
me: ‘You are M. de Chavailles ? ’ — ‘Yes.’ ‘ Well, here is 
a note which he should have at once ! ’ ‘ He is at Versailles ! 
‘It matters not; leave immediately; it is a matter of great 
concern for him.’ The lackey then placed the letter in my 
hands. I wished to ask him some exjdanations, he liad al- 
ready gone ; I called him, he did not reply ; I ran, he had 
disappeared.” 

“He is a spirit,” said Paul Emile gravely. 

“A spirit. Monsieur, does not execute commissions. I 
went to the stable and five minutes after I was galloping 
furiously.” 

In the meantime Hector was examining the letter. 

“This is singular,” said he. 

'“Is it an indiscretion to ask you what this letter con- 
tains ? ” said M. de Riparfonds. 

“Not at all. Listen: ^ Take part in the royal limit at 
Mar'ly to-morrow, and follow the person who will present 
himself to you.’ ” 

“And then?” 

“Nothing; neither signature, nor seal.” 

The Due de Riparfonds scrutinized the letter. 

“ By-the-way,” exclaimed' Hector, “did the lackey wear 
a gray cloak ? ” 


156 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“No,” said Coq-H6ron, “neither gray, nor green, nor 
blue, nor red, nor cloak of any sort; he had a surtout.” 

Hector explained the reason for his demand to M. de 
Riparfonds. 

“Eh! eh! this savors of an adventure,” exclaimed M. de 
Fourquevaux. “Are you happy, my dear Marquis ! You 
bring to life adventures in a country where they are no 
more. Poor France ! how she is degenerating. — A man in a 
gray cloak, a mysterious lackey, a note more mysterious 
still, the chase and a rendezvous in the woods.— It is 
charming, like the first pages of a tale from Boccacio. 
You will go, dear Marquis.” 

“Parbieu!” 

“ It is a little imprudent! ” hazarded M. de Riparfonds. 

“And that is w’hat makes it agreeable. Pleasure is born 
of danger, like Venus of the wave.” 

“ The mythology is new.” 

“It is ail the more seducing.” 

“There is only one obstacle in the way — it is that to fol- 
low the hunts of Marly, permission is necessary,” said the 
Duke. 

“Ah diable! ” said Hector. 

“ The moment is passed ; but if you dare to address to 
the King at supper a prayer which is only^made in the 
morning— It is bolder perhaps than to attack a battery.” 

“Bah!” said Hector after having reflected for "some 
moments, “ all those who have taken batteries are not 
dead ; all those who have violated etiquette are not in the 
Bastille; I shall go.” 

At ten o’clock in the evening the King went to supper 
where, as usual, a great crowd of courtiers aw^aited him. 
It Avas the time when the ladies, but the ladies only, who 
wished to participate in the chase at Marly, i)resented 
themselves. There was a great number of them and of the 
highest rank. The King was seated, the ladies and gentle- 
men standing around the table, when Hector left the circle, 
and, as the gentlemen did in the morning who asked to 
take part in tlie chase, he exclaimed : 

“Sire! Marly!” 

All the courtiers and all the ladies turned toward the bold 
young man who thus violated etiquette. Emotion traversed 
their ranks, and their heads were seen to be agitated like 
the branches of a tree over which the wind has passed. 
Louis XIY. looked at him silently for a moment, but bold- 
iK'SS did not always displease the King; besides he had a 
marked weakness for young men, and this one who had 
just spoken to him possessed a frank and noble physiog- 
nony which prejudiced one in his favor. The King smiled ; 

“You shall go, Monsieur,” said he. 


THE ROYAL CHASE, 


157 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE WOODS OF MARLY. 

The next day there was brought to M. de Chavailles the 
blue justaueorps worn by those who took part in the chase. 
While he was putting it on, Coq-Heron murmured between 
his teeth all sorts of unintelligible words. 

“Come! what do you mean by muttering words one can 
not hear ? ” said Hector. 

“ Are you really going to this chase ? ” 

“ You see that I am.” 

“After the warnings of Mademoiselle Cydalise and the 
visits of the man with the gray cloak and that note which 
has to me the appearance of a snare ? ” 

“ Exactly on account of all this.” 

“ Monsieur you are mad ! ” 

“I know it.” 

M. de Chavailles’ brevity exasperated Coq-Hesron. 

“Go, Monsieur, and get your head broken; I wash my 
hands of it! ” he exclaimed. 

“ What! you think that things will go that far ? ” 

“ They will go farther.” 

“ That would be difficult; nevertheless, if I thought so, I 
would reflect.” 

“ It is indeed. time.” 

“It is cowardly to fly before danger, but since you think 
the contrary, I shall not go.” 

Hector made a move as if to take off his justaueorps; 
Coq-Heron seized him by the arm. 

“ Have jmu lost j^our wits. Monsieur ? and what will they 
say about you at court ? ” he exclaimed, “ And besides, 
have you asked the King for the favor of accompanying 
him to the chase expressly for offending him by your 
absence? No, Monsieur; you talk of taking off your 
justaueorps only to oppose me.” 

“That is not my intention.” 

“ Perhaps not at bottom, but it certainly seems so. I am 
going to slip some pistols into your holsters, and you shall 
tranquilly hunt the stag.” 

“ Well! go and see what horse I am to have and see to it ' 
that he is well girthed.” 

Coq-Heron descended to the King’s stables, inquired 
what horse M. de Chavailles was to ride, gave a glance at 
the bridle and rejoined his master. 

“Your courser is superb, and is named Ajax. You will 
be pleased with him.” 

An hour after, the hunting party plunged into the long 
avenues of the woods of Marly. It was foggy weather, 
and though the morning was far advanced, long trails of 


158 


THE nOYAL CHASE. 


mist liovered on the banks of the Seine, and, chased 
by a hurried wind, suspended their white-colored flakes on 
the trees of the shore. Thousands of dead leaves, detached 
from the foreheads of the oaks, rained down upon the plain 
and whirled under the feet of the horses, while light clouds 
swept the summit of the forest and tore their pale waves on 
all the crests of the hill. As soon as they had entered upon 
the hunting-ground, the valle}" was hidden from the eyes, 
buried under a veil of mist. All the sadness of autumn 
lilled the woods; the confused noises of the wind in the 
half leafless branches, the rustling of the leaves driven 
along the paths, the glimpses of the country bathed in 
wandering vapors, the melancholy aspects of the landscape, 
the sinister cries and flight of laveus passing in the air, 
augmented the gloom of this nature which seemed to be 
weeping the fugitive splendor of the summer. 

Louis XIV. followed the chase in a caleche, accompanied 
by the ladies of the court and the grand officers of his 
household ; forty or fifty hunters on horseback galloped 
around him, and soon the troop, in hot pursuit of the stag, 
disappeared under the cover of the woods. The ardent 
pack barked loudly, the huntsmen blew their horns, the 
horses neighed, and, like an impetuous whirlwind, they 
plunged into the long avenues of the forest. During 
the first hour. Hector, more attentive to the movements of 
the cavaliers than to the accidents of the chase, awaited 
the appearance of the mysterious guide who was promised 
him; his eyes, accustomed to sound space, interrogated at 
each moment the doubtful transparence of the glades and 
the fugitive sinuosities of the path ; neither lackey nor page 
was to be seen. The thouglit of an invisible peril sus- 
pended over his head had at first cliarmed his mind by fill- 
ing it with that secret emotion which since his childhood he 
had loved to taste ; but finally, weary of seeking and wait- 
ing, he let himself be infiuenced by the tumult of voices 
and of horns, and abandoned himself to the double intoxi- 
cation of motion and the chase. 

M. de Eiparfonds and M. de Fourquevaux had observed 
him for some time; but Paul £mile encountered a caleche 
in which reclined upon silk cushions, two women who ap- 
peared to him to be the most seducing in the world. 

“God! how pretty they are! and I do not know them! it 
i^ ridiculous,” said he. 

And he followed the caleche which went with extraordi- 
nary rapidity. Further on, M. de Eiparfonds, who had 
stopped a moment to adjust his horse’s curb, lost sight of 
Hector. At the end of two hours, IM. de Chavailles had al- 
most forgotten his note. The hunters passed like phantoms 
among the trees, and twenty routes opened under the feet 
of their horses. At the moment when the stag, tracked by 
the dogs, descended with precipitate bounds the hills which 
border on the Seine, a man on horseback appeared upon the 


•rUE JiOYAL CHASE. 


159 


verge of the wood and made ]M. de Chavailles a sign to ap- 
proach. Hector saw .the man and understood the gesture. 

“ Ah! ” said he, “you come very late.” 

“ Are you ready ? ” replied the man without paying any 
attention to Hector’s exclamation. 

“ Yes.” 

“ Well! follow me.” 

“ Listen,” said the young captain drawing a pistol from 
his holsters, “if you conduct me to some snare, the first ball 
will be for you. Go ahead now.” 

The man spurred his horse, which left like an arrow, and 
M. de Chavailles followed him. The route which the guide 
took led into the heart of the forest; for some time Hector 
heard the sonorous barking of the dogs which were on the 
border of the wood ; but the noise of the chase was finally 
extinguished, and soon the cadenced gallop of the two 
horses alone shook the echoes of the solitude into which 
they had plunged. Hector and his guide thus crossed three 
leagues without exchanging a word; they had just left the 
wooded country to enter on the plain, when the cavalier 
turned to M. de Chavailles and, pointing out to him a 
house situated on the border of a field, said to him : 

“ There it is.” 

This small house was built of brick, and around it the 
lioneysuckle and evergreen twined. Some great trees sur- 
rounded it, and a line of poplars separated it from the 
neighboring fields. As the two cavaliers approached it, 
they came across a woman seated on the trunk of a fallen 
tree. She rose up. 

“Christine! ” exclaimed M. de Chavailles, and jumped to 
the ground. 

Before Christine could speak, he had seized her two hands 
and covered them with ardent kisses. Her cheeks covered 
with a modest blush, she dared not withdraw her hands 
and look at him. 

“ Here! you here ? ” he finall.y exclaimed. 

“Since yesterday only, and my first thought has been for 
you.” 

Hector looked at her with eyes so full of love, that she 
lowered her eyelids and drew him toward the house. 

“Come,” said she, “my father is waiting for you there, 
and you can not imagine how much pleasure it will be for 
him to see you.” 

She passed the threshold of the cottage and introduced 
Hector into a hall where M. de Bletturius was seated in a 
great fauteuil, at the fireside. 

“ Blessed be the day which again brings us together! ” he 
exclaimed embracing Hector. 

Hector sat down between the father and tlie daughter, 
and after the first words given to the joy of their reunion, 
he asked M. de Blettarius to what cause he owed seeing 
him so near the court. 


II? 


160 


THE liOYAL CHASE. 


“NothiDg is more simple,” replied the old gentleman, 
“the letters which I expected duringjonr sojourn at Gren- 
oble have arrived; they informed me that the seigneur who 
protects me had seen the ministers, and without naming 
n\e, had interested them in my position. He wrote me that 
he had a hunting pavilion near Paris where I could wait 
till the propitious moment came when I could present my- 
self to the king.” 

“And you have come ? ” 

“ Could I resist the pleasure of drawing near a place where 
you were?” 

“ But do you not fear that your retreat may be dis- 
covered?” 

“It is almost impossible. Our servants have taken the 
livery of the seigneur who wrote to me, and we inhabit this 
pavilion under borrowed names.” 

Hector was not disposed to find objections when he looked 
at Christine. Her presence made him forget all his fears. 

The hours passed quickly, and it was necessary for M. de 
Blettarius to remind Hector that he ought to return to 
Marly. Hector took leave of the old gentlemen promising 
to return the next day. 

When M. de Chavailles reappeared at Marly, M. de Ripar- 
fonds and M. de Fourquevaux had a thousand questions to 
addi’ess him. Hector drew them into adeserted alley of the 
garden, and related his visit to M. de Biettaiius. He told 
them how he had met Christine, how he had found her 
again at Paris, what hope M. de liiettaiius nourished, and 
the resolution which he had taken of marrying Christine as 
soon as he could. 

“Your Christine is beautiful, then?” said M. de Four- 
quevaux. 

“She is the most charming and adorable girl under 
heaven. The soul of a virgin in the body of a goddess ! ” 

“ I was sure of it. No matter what her color, no matter 
what her size, no matter what her station, no matter what 
her country, there is not a woman who has not been, at a 
given moment of her life, the most adorable of human 
creatures. Each one of them has been, for live minutes at 
least, the queen of the fairies. What singular eyes love 
gives to men! They love, and behold the same mask upon 
all countenances. Oh! lovers! lovers! ” 

Hector looked at Paul Emile with a stupefied air. 

“Oh! you do not know our friend M. le Comte de Four- 
quevaux,” said M. de Riparfonds; “ when you have lived 
longer in his company, you will learn that he is a well of 
homilies, a collection of funeral orations, a repertory of 
melancholy harangues. There are some days on which he 
would willingly dress himself in black from head to foot, 
like a catafalque, and dig his own grave while singing a de 
profnndis; at other times he talks like a phiiosopher who 
has bid adieu to the follies of this world and proves to you, 


1 


THE ROYAL CILiSE, 


161 


af^er the' rules of Iho best rlieti>rie, that there is no happi- 
ness upon eartli, that ]>leasure is a vanity, that life is an 
exile, and that the best thing one can do, is to imitate M. 
de Kance. But all these fine discourses do not prevent his 
being the happiest man in France.” 

“ I should like to know the reasons I have for being 
happy,” exclaimed Paul Emile. 

“ In the first place you are young.” 

“Youth passes!— And tlien, do not look at the face, but 
the heart; I am a hundred years old.” 

“ You have a great name.” 

“It is the more heavy to bear.” 

“You are rich.” 

“ That concerns my intendant.” 

“You always have a mistress.” 

“That is monotonous.” 

“ Sometimes you have four of them.” 

“That is fatiguing.” 

“You enjoy marvelous health.” 

“In appearance, like the finest fruits, but the canker is 
in the heart.” 

“ You are naturally of a jesting turn of mind.” 

“ There is no merit in that.” 

“You have wit.” 

“Scarron, Louis the Fourteenth’s predecessor, had some 
also, and nevertheless! — ” 

“Go. to the devil!” exclaimed M. de Kiparfonds exas- 
perated. 

“I do not know where he dwells,” replied Paul £mile. 

The next day. Hector was carried to Meudon by M. de 
Kiparfonds, to visit the Dauphin ; to St. Cloud, to visit the 
Duchess of Orleans; to Versailles, to visit the Duke of Bur- 
gundy; and these receptions took up his time till evening; 
but as soon as the card playing commenced, before the 
King’s supper, he quitted the apartments, mounted on 
horseback, and left for the pavilion. The night was cold 
and clear; myriads of stars sparkled in the sky, where tluj 
milky way extended its scarf; the stag was calling in the 
woods; and the horse’s feet striking the hard ground 
sounded in the keen air. The cavalier, leaning over the 
saddle, devoured s[)ace, while his impatient look searched 
the profound and mute avenue; he passed like the wind 
and regretted that he did not go more quickly. Neverthe- 
less another cavalier followed Hector at a gallop, always 
maintaining the same distance between them ; but, more 
somber and mysterious than a phantom, he traversed the 
limpid night without awakening any echo; steam canu^ 
from the horse’s nostrils; but his hard shoes made no noise 
as they struck the ground, and the wind brought no sound 
of them to Hector’s ears. When M. de Chavailles stopped 
at the door of the pavilion, the cavalier got off his 
horse, tied him up, and glided till within a few steps of the 
11 


162 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


pavilion. After Hector had entered, lie came 'back, ex- 
amined the linen around his horse’s feet, leaped into the 
saddle, and plunged into the forest. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

Some days after this nocturnal visit. Hector was prome- 
nading one evening with M. de Blettarius. The old gentle- 
man had taken M. de Chavailles’ ai m. 

“I have wished to converse with you alone,” he said to 
him, “ because the time has come for me to open my heart 
to you.” 

“Speak! ” said Hector touched by this preamble. 

“ I am getting old, and death may surprise me at any 
moment.” 

“Bat you are vigorous and sound. Dismiss similar 
ideas.” 

“No, I can not deceive myself. My only regret is that 
my daughter will be left alone.” 

“Am I not your son, and so long as I live she will never 
be alone.” 

“Well! be my son altogether and become her husband.” 

“My father!” exclaimed M. de Chavailles, “you antici- 
pate the only desire of my heart.” 

“Listen,” continued the old gentleman, “ time presses ; 
you will marry Christine to-morrow.” 

“ To-morrow—! ” repeated Hector intoxicated with joy. 

“ And when I shall have given her to you, I shall quit life 
as a laborer quits the field where he has just opened his 
last furrow.” 

They talked for some time yet, then M. de Blettarius 
said : 

“Go now; I shall warn my daughter, and you must warn 
your friends, so that they may be yours and Christine’s 
witnesses.” 

Hector embraced M. de Blettarius and mounted his horse. 
A moment after, the black outline of the cavalier had dis- 
appeared. An intoxicating joy filled M. de Chavailles’ 
heart; the cold air of the night striking his hair, seemed to 
him the caressing breath of an invisible fairy. The moon 
had just slunvn its golden crescent above a light bank of 
clouds and pierced with its luminous arrows the obscurity 
of the forest. The birch-trees reared in the midst of the 
glades their trunks which resembled silver columns, and 
some bird awakened by the horse’s gallop flew whirring 
away. Hector looked at the inoon with the amorous eyes of 
a Thessalian Shepherd, and the thought of his happiness 
augmented with the spectacle of this calm and serene soli- 
tude; in proportion as the cliariniug luminary rose in the 


THE TOTAL CHASE. 


1G3 


sky, the darkness, like to the folds of a mantle wliicli one 
rolls lip, disappeared from the route, and nature, like a 
child that is rocked in the cradle, went to sleep under the 
transparent swaddling-clothes of this winter liight. Sud- 
denly the detonation of a iire-arni burst the silence; Hec- 
tor’s horse rose violentl}^ up, beat the air with liis fore-feet 
aud fell upon his back. At the same moment, two cava- 
liers came out of the wood and poymced upon Hector, who 
was pinned under his horse. . 

“Traitors!” he exclaimed seeking to draw his sword; 
but, before he could succeed in doing so, the points of two 
long rapiers pricked him in the neck. 

“ Not a word or you are dead,” said one of the cavaliers 
who had set foot on the ground as well as his comrade. 

M. de Chavailles, paying no attention to the threats of 
his assailants, was reaching for one of the pistols in his 
holsters, when the cavalier who had just, spoken, ex- 
claimed : 

“ Monsieur de Chavailles! ” 

“Brother Jean!” exclaimed Hector stupefied on recog- 
nizing the hermit of the Tower of Mont Ventoux. 

“Himself, with our friend Biscot, who will be charmed to 
have found you again.” 

. The second cavalier saluted and gave uttterance to a 
species of groans which might pass for a token of acquies- 
cence. 

“ Biscot, pull the horse a little to one side, while I raise 
up the Marquis.” 

In Hector’s position resistance was impossible; he re- 
signed himself and tranquilly let himself be taken by the 
shoulders. 

They raised up M. de Chavailles, who had received no in- 
jui ies of any kind. 

“ Biscot, you have fired too soon. See, you have struck 
the horse in the head. When a cavalier is going at a gal- 
lop, that would bo all right; l)Ut when he goes at a walk, 
tire full in the body. I ask your pardon,” continuedBrother 
Jean turning to M. de Chavailles; “I have just been giv- 
ing Biscot a little lesson which may be of use to him some 
day.” 

A distant noise, like that of several horses galloping, sud- 
denly attracted Brother Jean’s attention. 

“Eh!” said he, “those are my men; tliey have heard 
Biscot’s carbine shot, am) they are coming up. Quirk, 
quick Biscot; aid me to throw this horse into that pond.” 

Biscot, who acted more than he spoke, took the horse by 
the fore-legs. Brother Jean raised him by liis hind ones, 
and they threw him into a species of muddy hole. 

“ Now, Monsieur le MaiTpiis, take Biscot’s hat and cloak, 
and cover yourself with them.” 

“ But wliat for ? ” asked Hector. 

“Necessity is the mother of disguises,” said Brother 


164 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


Jean throwing tlie cloak upon M. de Chavailles’ shoulders. 
“Now, Monsieur le Marquis, set foot in the stirrup and get 
on Biscot’s horse as soon as you can.” 

Brother Jean acted and spoke at the same time, so that 
M. de Chavailles and he found themselves in the saddle at 
the same time. 

“Now, Biscot, gather up some dry leaves and dirt to 
cover the traces of blood in the road. Nothing of what has 
happened must a})pear.” 

While Biscot was executing this order, the echo of the 
galloi) which had struck Brother Jean’s ear became more 
and more distinct each moment. Two minutes more, and 
the invisible cavaliers would appear. 

“ Now, Biscot, perch upon some tree like a raven, or hide 
under the bushes, like a fox.” 

Biscot glided away like a serpent. 

A clashing of steel attracted M. de Chavailles’ attention ; 
he turned his head and found himself in the presence of 
seven or eight cavaliers. They grouped themselves 
around Brother Jean, who tranquilly caressed the ends of 
his mustache. Hector assured himself that his pistols 
were in the holsters, and made ready to act at the first 
alarm. 

“Well!” said one of the cavaliers, “is he dead? is he 
wmunded ? is he a prisoner? ” 

“Neither dead, wounded, nor a prisoner,” replied Jean 
coldly. 

“ It is then Biscot who has fired ? ” 

“ It was Biscot.” 

“Bungler!” said the cavalier throwing a look of scorn 
ui;)on liim whom he took for Biscot. 

All the troop murmured, and from all these mouths came 
a volley of ill-sounding epithets; but Hector took care not 
to reply and let the storm pass. 

“ Let us return to our quarters,” said Brother Jean ; “he 
laughs best who laughs last.” 

It was agreed that the troop should adjourn its expedi- 
tion to another night and would take better its measures. 
They left the wood and took the road to Paris, Brother Jean 
and the false Biscot riding in front. When they had put a 
certain distance between themselves and the rest of the 
band. Brother Jean leaned toward M. de Chavailles, and 
said ; 

“ What ninnies! but all the same it was well played.” 

“ Not badly,” replied Hector; “ but what is going to be- 
come of Biscot ? ” 

“ Oh ! do not disturb yourself about Biscot. Thanks to a 
collection of false beards and false eyebrows, he will arrive 
at Paris without hindrance.” 

“You I’eassure me.” 

“ Does it not seem to you that, like to Nisusand Euryalus, 
we are leaving the camp of Turnus ? ” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


165 


• “Permit me to hope that our expedition will have a differ- 
ent determination.” 

“ Only continue to play the role of Biscot and everything 
will turn out all right. It is not difficult, seeing that Biscot 
is mute by temperament.” 

“ Permit me to ask you a question ? ” 

“Do so.” 

“Is it simply for the pleasure of searching my pockets 
that you have tired upon me like a pheasant ? ” 

“ N<5. I have tired upon you to render a service to a per- 
son who had asked it of me.” 

Hector looked at Brother Jean ; he did not know that he 
had an enemy, and this declaration astonished him. 

“ Do you speak seriously ? ” said he. 

“Very seriously, on the faith of a hermit.” 

“Well! then, permit me a second question.” 

“ Certainly.” 

“ Tell me, if you please, the name of this amiable person 
who thinks of me when I do not think of him.” 

“ I am sorry to refuse you, but it is impossible.” 

“ And why ? ” 

“ Because we rascals have our word like honest men, and 
I have sworn to be silent.” 

“But you have sworn to kill me also.” 

“ Yes, and it was not Biscot’s fault that I did not keep my 
word.” 

' “ Did the person for whom you act tell you my name.” 

“ No. Would I have charged myself with this commis- 
sion, if I had known that it was a question of you.” 

“ You astonish me, after the trick I played you near 
Carpentras.” 

“ That trick, far from diminishing my esteem for you, has 
increased it. I know by heart that little paper upon which 
you wrote your adieux.” 

“Eeally!” 

“ It ran this way : ‘ I have eaten your bread, I have slept 
under your roof ; I pardon you the evil which you have done 
me, and wiH'never say anything about what I have seen.’ ” 

“ It is, my faith, true.” 

“ My comrades were afraid that you might warn the 
police, but I assured them they could count on your word.” 

“ I am touched by your confidence.” 

“ What else could you expect ? I loved you. We returned 
to the Tower of Mont Ventoux, and things continued upon 
the same footing as before.” 

“That is to say forced loans, tithes, smuggling, and 
counterfeiting.” 

“Eh! you have forgotten nothing. Your departure made 
me sad, no longer having any one to talk to about the 
Geoi'gicii. A year after, the soldiers of the governor of 
Provence, surprised the hermitage one stormy night ; five 


166 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


of our associates were killed, four were taken and hung, 
and the rest succeeded in escapiug.” 

“And Turk?” 

“Ah! He became a devotee. Taken by a sergeant, ne 
was conducted to a convent of Mt. St. Bernard, where he 
has died in the exercise of his religious duties.” 

“ And yourself ? ” 

“Oh, I have become a public officer.” 

“You, an officer! ” exclaimed Hector. 

“And why not? After mature reflections I decided to 
change my state, and like the Sicambre of histoiy, I took 
the part of adoring what I had detested, and detesting what 
I had adored. It was necessary to think of a commodious 
retreat for my old days.” 

“But the comparison of Sieambre does not tell me Vvdiat 
you are now doing and what functions you fulfill.” 

“You have perhaps heard of Comte Voyer d’Argen- 
son ? ” 

“ The Lieutenant of Police ? ” 

“ I am one of his employees.” 

Hector gave vent to a burst of Homeric laughter. 

“Eh! Monsieur le IMarquis, do not laugh so strong, or 
they may divine that you are not Biscot.” 

“ But tell me. Brother Jean, is this enemy who tracks me 
M. Voyer d’ Argenson ? ” 

“ Do not believe it. The man who has charged me with 
killing you found me in a cabaret where I was exercising 
my profession under a disguise. He has taken me for what 
I was not, and, drawing me aside, has offered me three hun- 
dred pistoles for a pistol shot.” 

“You have accepted ? ” 

“ Money is so scarce. Besides, if one did not commit 
these peccadilloes, the police would be without an occupa- 
tion.” 

“ That is a reason.” 

“I proposed the affair to some friends,, the man having 
warned me that several men would be necessary to guard all 
the outlets.” 

“ Well, perhaps I shall see him some day.” 

“I do not doubt it. Monsieur.” 

About this time the little troop arrived at Paris ; it was 
five o’clock in the morning, and a pale light which whitened 
the horizon indicated that tlie dawn was near. 

“We separate here,” said Brother Jean, “ you will take 
one direction and w^e will take the other.” 

“ You have saved my life. Brother Jean ; I shall recollect 
it,” said Hector. 

“ Biscot,” said Brother Jean in a louder tone than he had 
been using, “go to the provost and ask him for liis orders. 
Make haste—” 

The false Biscot groaned in token of assent and took the 
Street to the right, while Brother Jean and his troop took 


THE noYAL CHASE. 


167 


the cue to the left. At the end of twenty steps, Hector 
changed his direction and pushed on toward M. de Kipar- 
fonds’ hotel. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

TWO POST-CHAISES. 

When M. de Chavailles arrived at the hotel in the Rue Bt. 
Honore, he found Coq-Heron promenading in the street 
while waiting for him. 

“Ah! here you are, Monsieur le Marquis,” said the 
soldier; “ you arrive every day a little later than the even- 
ing before.” 

“ This time I came near not returning at all.” 

Coq-Heron paled at these words. 

“ Are you wounded ? ” said he remarking that his master 
wore a hat and rode a horse which he did not recognize. 

“ No. But lead the horse to the stable.’* 

Coq-Heron hastened to comply with IM. de Chavailles or- 
der, and came back very quickly to learn the events of tlie 
night. 

Hector briefly related the carbine shot, his fall, and the 
part Brother Jean had taken in this episode. 

“Parbleu!” exclaimed Coq-Heron, “this rascal is a 
brave man, and I should be delighted to make his acquaint- 
ance.” 

“ I count on his visiting me, but in case he does not I will 
myself set out in search of him.” 

“ You.^^” 

“ Undoubtedly. He was promised three hundred pistoles 
to assassinate me ; his good action will cause him to lose two 
hundred : I owe them to him.” 

“That is just, and if you permit it. Monsieur, I will carry 
them to him myself.” 

Hector looked at Coq-Herpn, wlio was walking and rub- 
bing his hands, and stopping only to curl his moustache 
with a pleased air. 

“ Eh ! my old Coq ! ” said he, “ your face is expanded like 
the moon at its full.” 

“Ah! Monsieur, I have also had my little adventures,” 
said the soldier. 

“Really.” 

“Parbleu! did you think to have the monopoly of 
them ? ” 

“ Well, tell me about it.” 

“Do you recollect the man with the gray cloak ? ” 

“ Perfectly.” 

“Well! Monsieur, he has paid us a visit yesterday.” 

“Ah! ah! ” 

“ This time, M. de Riparfonds’ valet, with whom he is ac- 


168 


THE liOYAL CHASE. 


oustomed to talk, pointed him out to me as he was going 
away. He was walking quickly ” 

“ I know something about that.” 

“But I have good legs, and I succeeded in reaching him 
behind the Louvre.” 

“ What kind of a man was he, my friend ? ” 

“A man with a saturnine countenance, who concealed 
under his cloak a rapier of beautiful size.” 

“Perhaps an associate of Brother Jean. Prudent and 
discreet.” 

“ It is possible. I politely asked him what I could do for 
him.” 

“ What did he reply ? ” 

“Nothing.” 

“ That is laconic.” 

“ Too laconic, Monsieur. I insisted, and so well that I con- 
strained him to explain.” 

“ At last! ” 

“ He opened his mouth to say the thing did not concern 
me. But what was my astonishment, when I recognized in 
the man with the gray cloak M. le Chevalier’s valet.” 

“The Chevalier’s valet? Are you sure of it, my old 
Coq ? ” 

“ Quite sure ; my eyes have a good memory.” 

“ This is singular.” 

“ I witnessed to him my surprise, and the rascal replied 
that he did not know what I meant and that I had only to go 
my way.” 

“The scoundrel mixes impertinence with discretion.” 

“ So it seemed to me. Twilight was at hand ; the passers- 
by were growing rarer; the place was propitious to explana- 
tions.” 

“Slightly deserted, tranquil and badly lighted.” 

“ Exactly ; I suggested it to the man with the gray cloak. 

‘ Go, go,’ he said to me ; “ I have no account to render you.’ 

‘ Well! ’ I exclaimed, ‘ Since you have no account to ren- 
der, it is to me to give you one.” ’ 

“You express yourself well, Coq-H4ron.” 

“ Monsieur le Marquis does me too much honor. The 
man with the gray cloak appeared surprised. ‘ An account 
to render me;’ he exclaimed, ‘ what do you mean?’ ‘I 
mean,’ I replied, ‘that if you will follow me into this en- 
closure, we can talk without noise. As word thrust is better 
than ten words.’ ” 

“ The maxim pleases me much.” 

“Well! Monsieur, don’t you think he had the bad taste to 
cry out. I touched him on the shoulder, and pointing 
out to him four soldiers in the guards who were passing by, 
I threatened to call them if he said a word : ‘ I will inform 
them that you ramble around houses to play the spy on 
people,’ I said to him, “and they will maul you with blows. 
Choose the stick or the sword.” 


THE ROYAH CHASE. 


169 


“ And he decided ? ” 

“ Immediatel}^” 

“ See what it is to choose one’s arguments well.” 

“ Close by was an enclosure shut in by old planks; I con- 
ducted my man there and invited him to put a sword in his 
hand, which he did with fairly good grace. It was pretty 
dark there.” 

“ Not so dark though but what you could see how to 
light.” 

“So I proved to him, a minute after, by running him 
through. He was a good fencer, but he broke too much and 
he would have ended by falling into some hole, if I had not 
taken the part of killing him.’’ 

“ You have pushed prec{iution a little far.” 

“My faith! Monsieur, his discretion had irritated 
my nerves; when I saw him on the ground, I promptly 
dried mj^ sword on a tuft of grass and gave before 
going away, a last glance at the dead mam He was stiff as 
a tree trunk, with eyes open, and some drops of blood on 
his lips and face. I carried away his gray cloak which is of 
very good cloth, and tranquilly returned to the hotel.” 

M. de Chavailles congratulated Coq-Heron upon his prow- 
ess, and began ])reparations f<n’ his secret marriage with 
Mademoiselle de Blettarinus. M. de Riparfonds and M. de 
Chavailles promised him to be punctual at the rendezvous. 

“ You cross the Rubicon this evening! ” said Paul Simile. 

“ This evening, my dear Count.” 

M. de Fourquevaux reflected some moments. 

“ Well! seriously, I do believe,” said he, “that were my 
mistress as charming as Venus, she would seem horrible to 
me on the day of marriage.” 

Thereupon, Paul Emile i)icked up his hat and declared 
that he was going to pay a visit to Cydalise, to recover from 
the sadness into which Hector’s declaration had plunged 
him. M. de Riparfonds left some minutes after to go to 
the Palais Royal, where the Duke of Orleans expected him. 

M. de Chavailles was left alone and was already tasting 
the delights of a tender reverie, when a light knock at the 
door attracted his attention. He opened it and saw tlie 
chevalier enter with a roll in his hand. 

“ Eh! parbleu,” exclaimed M. de Chavailles suddenly for- 
getting his prejudices, “you are welcome.” 

The chevalier replied coldly. ' 

“ MM. de Riparfonds and de Fourquevaux,” said Hector, 
“ have experienced, like myself, a keen regret at not having 
encountered you at court ; they will be delighted to learn 
that I have seen you.” 

“I promised you, I believe, to find an occasion which 
would permit us to renew our acquaintance.” 

“ That is true ; I feared that you had forgotten it.” 

“ I never forget anything.” 

The chevalier’s accent and tone caused Hector to feel 


170 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


agcain his first instincts of repulsion. He rose up before 
the chevalier who had refused the seat which M. de Cha- 
vailles had pointed out to him, and said: 

“ Can I serve you in any way, Moiisieur le Chevalier ? ” 

“You cannot’ serve me, but you can serve the king,” re- 
plied the chevalier in a loud tone. 

“Speak, Monsieur.” 

“ Marechal de Boufflers, who is to take command of the 
army, has already left to inspect our lines.” 

“I know that. Monsieur.” 

“He is at Lille, where your regiment is garrisoned, and 
M. de Chamillart, who sends me to you, has thought you 
might be happy to carry this package to M. de Bouffiers. 
Y^ou will thus find an occasion to get acquainted with your 
regiment.” 

The Chevalier presented the package to M. de Chavailles, 
who took it. 

“ It is a very honorable mission, which I gladly accept,” 
he replied bowing. 

“ In military service, one neither accepts nor refuses — 
one obeys.” 

“ Ah ! is it a lesson ? ” said Hector somewhat piqued. 

“ No, it is a warning,” said the Chevalier coldly. 

“ Then I will give you one in return. If you have many 
lackeys like to the valet with the gray cloak, see to it that 
they do not ramble around hotels inhabited by honest peo- 
ple. Some misfortune might happen to them, and that 
would be a pity.” 

“I do not understand you,” said the Chevalier tran- 
quilly. 

“ Then I will explain myself better; Coq-Hton, my valet, 
has been constrained to kill the one jmu had at the Due de 
Mazarin’s, and this to teach him not to play the spy on peo- 
ple.” 

“ Your valet was right to kill an awkward spy, but what 
is that to me. The valet of whom you speak left me on my 
arrival at Paris.” 

Hector looked at the Chevalier who braved his look un- 
flinchingly. 

“ Monsieur,” pursued Hector, “ I have told you that I 
aocepted the mission ; I wull fulfill it. I believe your mis- 
sion ended and no longer detain you.” 

“ Y"ou deceive yourself. Monsieur; my orders are to quit 
you only after having put you in the carriage.” 

M. de Chavailles trembled. 

“Do you mean,” he exclaimed, “that I must leave at 
once?” 

“At once.” 

“But an affair of the highest importance calls me this 
evening some leagues from Paris; to-morrow I will be free, 
but to-morrow only.” 

The king’s service suffers no delay. It is necessary to 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


171 


leave immediately. If you had taken the trouble to open the 
dispatch of whioii the lirst envelope is addressed to you, you 
wo.uld have seen that the ojder is imperative.” 

Hector broke the seal, and rai)idiy read a letter through 
\vhich the minister intimated to him the order to leave with- 
out losing a minute. “ A post-chaise has been commanded 
for you,” added the minister in conclusion, “ and you will 
make all haste to the frontier.” 

“But where is this post-chaise?” asked M. de Chav- 
ailles. 

“ Behold it,” replied the Chevalier opening a window. 

Hector looked oat, and saw a post-chaise harnessed in the 
court; the postilion was in the saddle. 

“ But if I refused to leave ? ” said he. 

“ Ah! that would be very simple. Instead of conducting 
you to Flanders, this chaise woidd conduct you to the Bas- 
tille. The two routes are equally free, and it is yours to 
choose.” 

The Chevalier’s tone irritated M. de Chavailles. He felt 
tempted to throw away the package, draw his sword, leap 
upon a horse and fly to Christine, but reflection held him. 
back. He knew too well the severity of military laws. 

“I obey, Monsieur,” said he to'the Chevalier ; “ I only 
need time to write a short letter.” 

“ Do so. Monsieur le Marquis.” 

“I do not ask your permission, I take it. Monsieur le 
Chevalier.” 

The Chevalier bit his lips till the blood came, but that was 
all. Hector sat down at a little table and wrote to Mile, de 
Blcttarinus : 

“I send you, Mademoiselle, a faithful servitor who will 
tell you why I leave. The king’s service obliges me to go 
w^ithout delay to Lille; I fly there and return. In thiee or 
four days I shall see you again ; I carry the memory of you 
as a talisman and leave you my heart.” 

He signed this *11016, sealed it, called Coq-H6ron and 
handed it to him-, recommending him to make haste. 

“ What 1 this chaise is for you and you leave ? ” exclaimed 
the soldier. 

“ It is necessary.” 

M. de Chavailles explained briefly to Coq-Hcron the cause 
of his brusque departure and the object of his journey. 

“And it is Monsieur who has brought you this order to 
leave ? ” said he looking at the Chevalier. 

“ Hum ! as the valet, so the master! ” 

“Agreed ! but the older is from the'minister, and there is 
no room for hesitation.” 

“It is well Monsieur le Marquis, but I should like to ac- 
company you.” 

“ It is impossible, my old Coq ; I know of no one but you 
whom I can charge with a mission as delicate. You will 
also warn M. de Kiparfonds and M. de Fourquevaux. 


172 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


They will be here in an hour. Inform them of what you 
have seen.” 

In spite of the rooted habit which he had of opposing his 
master in everything, Coq-Heron understood veiy well, by 
Hector’s air, the moments when it was necessary to m.-t 
without discussion. Surprised besides by tlie news of a 
journey of which he had not thought a quarter of an liour 
previous, Coq-Heron experienced an indefinable sentiment 
of sadness and anxiety, which would have lendered him 
unskilful in every species of discussion. ^Yhile the old 
soldier was talking with M. de Chavailles, the Chevalier, 
under color of discretion, approached the window and 
made a sign to some men who were stationed around the 
hotel. They replied by other signs and linally disappeared 
after a mute and symbolic conversation. 

“ Are we ready V ” the chevalier thea said turning to the 
Marquis. 

“ I am ready,” replied Hector. 

He affectionately embraced Coq-Heron who could not 
conceal his sadness, descended the stairway and got into 
the chaise. 

The postilion cracked his whip, and the chaise started. 
Coq-Heron watched him move away till he was lost from 
sight at a turn of the street. He perceived then that his 
eyes were full of tears. 

“It is stupid to weep over a journey of four or five 
days!” said he, “if some soldier saw me, he would take 
me for a nun who lias lost her chaplet.” 

He dried his tears with the back of his hand and went to 
the stable to saddle the Marquis’ best courser. In three 
minutes he had done so. 

“ Hello 1 ” said Coq-Heron to M. de Eiparfonds’ valet, “ you 
will say to your master that I am going on a mission for M. 
de Chavailles, and pray him on my part not to leave till I re- 
turn. You will say the same thing to M. de Fourquevaux.” 

“Go, Monsieur Coq-Heron, go, nothing shall be for- 
gotten,” replied the valet. 

Coq-Heron took at a rapid trot the way to the Porte St. 
Honore by which he wished to gain the route to Marly. 
But scai'cely had he passed the gate when a troop of 
archers threw themselves upon him and disarmed him be- 
fore he could draw his sword. 

“ Mordieu ! ” lie exclaimed, “ what do you want with me ? 
I belong to the Marquis de Chavaiih^s and you are certainly 
deceived.” 

“No! ” said the chief of the archers, “ we arrest you in 
the name of the king.” 

“The devil take me if he knows me.” 

In spite of his resistance, Coq-Heron was pulled off his 
horse, his hands were tied, he was thrown into a closed 
carriage which was waiting on the border of the road, and 
the carriage and archers disappeared at a gallop. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


173 


CHAPTER XXV. 

THE BIVOUAC. 

Five years after the events whicli we have just related, 
the French army, discouraged and beaten in twenty en- 
counters, was still trying, under the orders of the Due de 
Villars and Marechal de Montesquion, to oppose Prince 
Eugene and the Duke of Marlborough, who threatened to 
invade the kingdom. It was toward the end of August, 
1711 ; the spectacle which Flanders presented was one of 
the most pitiable that it could be given to man to contem- 
plate. As far as the eye could reach, there was to be seen, 
in the midst of those fertile plains, nothing but ruins. 
Villages smoked along the routes taken by the Imperial 
hussars; the harvests rotted in the fields where the sickle 
no longer shone; abandoned farm-houses opened to the 
autumn sun their doors and windows pierced by balls; not 
a farm which did not bear the trace of pillage, not a barn 
which fire had not licked with its fiaming tongues : not a 
hamlet which death had not visited. Peaceful cattle es- 
caped from scattered herds, wandered at random, far from 
the hospitable stable, waiting till the lance of a uhlan 
should extend them on the ground. Oftentimes one could 
walk an hour or two, through these plains manured by the 
blood of twenty battles, before discovering a laborer. ’ The 
province was dispeopled, and there were thousands of 
peasants formerly gave themselves up to the tranquil 
works of peace, nothing but soldiers was to be seen ; the 
cannon had replaced the cai t. Bands of the enemy, search- 
ing for booty, traversed without relaxation the frontiers of 
Picardy, attacking the burgs, sacking the chateaux, levy- 
ing tribute on the monasteries, pillaging the farms, burn- 
ing at one place, killing at another, and sowing terror on 
all sides. As in the time of the wai s of the Middle Ages, 
captains of freebooters traversed Flanders, some in the 
name of the Emperor of Germany, some in the name of the 
King of France, and making war on their own account. 
Rustics, bourgeois, clerks, students, and gentlemen, driven 
by misery from their roofs, had made themselves soldiers; 
not a hand but what had abandoned the pen, the spade or 
the shuttle, to take up the sabre and the musket. Instead 
of those peaceable caravans of merchants, who sow abund- 
ance as they go, there was to be seen upon the roads only 
long convoys of munitions of war, and trains of artillery 
transporting their mortars and cannon from city to city. 
The abbey bell sounded sadly in those desolate solitudes, 
where some poor women alone answered the call to prayer, 
and, like a hungry ^^leaner, indefatigable death wandered 
in the midst of the fields where tJie powder smoke was ex- 


174 


THE EOYAL CHASE. 


tended like a fog. When a general had raised a contribn- 
tioji in the name of the king, his master, a general of the 
enemy -ca.me who imposed a fine in favor of the emperor, 
his sovereign; they paid for having paid. One day the 
country belonged to the flag with the three golden 
de-lija; the next day, it was the property of the standard on 
which was displayed the black eagle with two heads. The 
chances of war sometimes made you French and some- 
times German. And, while the negotiations opened the 
year before at Gertriiydenberg and taken up again at 
Utreclit, were going on, the bombai'dments did not stop. 
The. French army was a good one, composed to a great ex- 
tent of old troops accustomed to the fire, tried by the ter- 
rible battle of Malplaquet, where the conqueror had fared 
worse than the conquered, and by twenty murderous com- 
bats; but they were badly fed, and still more badly paid; 
the regiments lacked good officers and had no confidence 
in their generals. The successive misfortunes of the pre- 
ceding campaigns had deadened their zeal and taken from 
the soldiers what formed their principal strength and their 
security: gayety and the ardor of combat. The best oppor- 
tunities were lost through the negligence of the chiefs and 
their secret rivalry, while Prince Eugene and the Duke of 
Marlborough, counting upon their good fortune and still 
more upon the slowness of their adversary, attempted the 
most perilous enteri)rises, the boldest expeditions, and suc- 
ceeded in all that which they dared. MM. de Voysin and 
do Torcy had succeeded M. de Chamiilart in the direction 
of State affairs; but the State was at the end of her re- 
sources; the recruits and money no longer arrived. Never- 
theless the courtiers, as well as the ministers, strove to 
conceal the truth from Louis XIV., whom his pride im- 
pelled to continue the war which he had undertaken to 
maintain the succession of the crown of Spain for his 
grandson. France, exhausted, panting; at the end of her 
efforts, liveel in hope of a victory which her marshals 
always promised her and which never came. 

At the moment when we again fake up this narrative, the 
sun was sinking toward the horizon whose flaming circle 
enclosed a vast extent of plain studded in the distance by 
the steeples of Bouchain. Above the city was to be seen a 
black dome of smoke incessantly being added to by the 
discharges of artillery. The country was ravaged as if it 
had been trampled upon by a numerous army; the calcined 
trunks of trees blocked up the roads: no culture, no herds, 
no laborers, but in a ploughed field, a cayalry comjniny 
was stationed upon the banks of a small stream whose 
lim])id waters were lost in the neighboring meadows. The 
horses, saddled, but not bridled, pastured around the 
stakes; the greater part of the cavaliers, reclining in the 
shade of some elms, slept with their muskets between their 
legs; some others wore playing dice; seven or eight of 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


175 


their comrades, whitened under their liarness, were polish- 
ing their arms in the sunshine, and a half a dozen sentinels, 
scattered four or five hundred steps from the bivouac, were 
searching the plain with their attentive looks. The neigh- 
ing of horses, the whistling of some soldier who was dream- 
ing of his country, witli his back upon the grass and his 
eyes in tlie sky, and the brusque exclamations of the gam- 
blers surprised by the inconstancy of the dice, alone inter- 
rupted the silence of their hastily made encampment. 
The white cockade to be seen on tlie hats of the cavaliers 
indicated to which of the two armies their company be- 
longed. A little beyond the circle formed by the sentinels, 
and on the border of a road whose long line traversed the 
plain, a man was slowly walking. The spurs of the cavalier 
sounded regularly; his step measured like that of a man 
who hns the leisure to wait or who seeks to deceive his 
mind by a mechanical exercise, wms never either slow or 
rapid. Sometimes he stopped and plunged his looks far- 
away on the dusty road, and then took up again his silent 
and cadenced march. He wore the military costume, of 
great boots mounting to his knees, a large hat and a long 
sword, whose leather scabbard with an iron point beat his 
spurs; but this costume preserved the traces of long and 
laborious services. .Nothing was sadder nor more mourn- 
ful than the silent walk of this cavalier; no gesture es- 
caped from his crossed arms, no movement from his in- 
clined head ; his rigid shadow, clearly outlined by the rays 
of the setting sun, followed without oscillation the march 
of his body: the profoundest reflection absorbed the whole 
mind of the walker. Hector de Chavailles— for it was he— 
had been walking an hour, when he perceived at the end of 
the road, a black point in the midst of a cloud of dust. 
Hector shaded his eyes with his hand and watched it, im- 
movable as a statue upon its pedestal. At the end of some 
seconds, the silhouette of a cavalier was detached from the 
whitish veil which floated over the road, and M. de Cha- 
vailles recognized ,M- de Fourquevaux. He ran to nn-et 
his friend. Paul Emile leaped from the saddle and em- 
braced M. de Chavailles. 

“ Am I late ? ” said he. 

“Scarcely an hour. Cydalise would scold you, but I thank 
3-0U,” replied Hector. 

“ I would have arrived sooner, if I had not met, at three 
or four leagues from here, a party of Imperial hussars, with 
whom it was necessary to come to blows.” 

“You have punished the indiscreet fellows ? ” 

“I have killed three and wounded four of them, with the 
aid of two lackeys whom I had armed. By-the-way, tlie two 
lackeys have remained upon the ground.” 

“ The awkward fellows.” 

“Oh! it is not their fault! I have remarked tliat the 
gaim.'S of Mars, 4s the gcntlemeu of the Academy say in 


176 


THE ROYAL CHASE, 


their prefaces, are contrary to the temperament of my 
lackeys. Do you recollect those I had at Turin ? ” 

“Perfectly.” 

“Some have deserted, the others are dead. In short, 
after we had fenced sufficiently,tlie hussars have taken one 
direction and I have taken the other, so here I am.” 

“Safe and sound, I see.” 

“ Oh ! the body is well, it is the spirit which is sick ; only, 
as I have a furious appetite, I hope to dissipate my disap- 
pointment by dining.” 

Hector smiled, drew a whistle from his pocket, blew it, 
and a soldier appeared from the midst of a bed of furze in 
the midst of which he was extended. Hector spoke some 
words of German to him and the soldier left running. 

“ Follow me, my dear Count,” said Hector. 

“This German is a French soldier ?” asked Paul Emile 
who was following Hector and holding his horse by the 
bridle. 

“Oh! I have a company recruited in all countries,” re- 
plied Hector; “I have Flemings, Frenchmen, Spaniards, 
and Walloons.” 

While talking. Hector conducted Paul Emile to the shade 
cast by a willow, installed him on the grass and awaited the 
return of the German soldier who had gone for provisions 
and who soon reappeared carrying a bottle, a large ham, a 
quarter of roast mutton and some bread. When the whole 
was served on the turf, Paul Emile sighed. 

“ Do you recall, my dear Marquis, the dinner we made in 
the camp at Turin, five or six years ago ? ” said he. 

“Yes,” replied Hector, “we were young then.” 

“ Oh ! it is not youth which is lacking nor appetite,” said 
M. de Fourquevaux attacking the ham; “what is lacking 
•isgayety.” 

Hector looked at Paul Emile without replying. 

“Oh! yes I well know the question which is on your lips. 
Alas! it is to-day as it was the last time. No, I have heard 
notlung.” 

“Therefore,” said Hector, “Cydalise has not been able to 
discover anything.” 

“ Nothing.” 

“ Had I not grown accustomed to hopes deceived, my 
heart would break under these constant disappointments.” 

“ Is it you who speak thus ? ” 

“Yes, It is I. Look at me and judge if I have not suf- 
fered.” 

M. de Fourquevaux raised his eyes to M. de Chavailles 
and was silent. Five years had sufficed to transform Hector. 
The Calvinistic chiefs who drew sword at the call of the. 
Admiral, had no more ferocious gravity and somber impas- 
sibility than he. Paul Emile sighed and extended his hand 
to him.” 

“ Lot us drink to better times,” said he. 


THE llOrAL CHASE. 


177 


, Hector filled his glass ar.d touched with it that of Paul 
Emile. 

“ Is it not strange,” said he letting his hand fall back, 
“everything smiled on me, the King, my mistress, and the 
future. And now, the King does not even know that I 
exist, my mistress has disap})eared, and the future is closed 
to me. I have been away from Paris five years, and for five 
years I have been fighting in Flanders, without being per- 
mitted to appear at Versailles a single time. Do you recall 
the day on which the minister’s order caused me to leave so 
brusquely for Lille? The dispatch bore secietly the order 
to retain me in the army till the end of the campaign. I 
have seen three campaigns succeed this first one, .and I 
alone have had to remain in Flanders of all the officers of 
the regiment. Some are dead, others are colonels or bi iga- 
diers, and, if some bullet does not can-}^ me off, I will still 
])e a captain when peace comes. To all my letters, the min- 
ister replies— when he deigns to reply at all — by a precise 
order to remain in the cainp. I know the difference of the 
seasons no longer except by the difference of the manoeuvres. 
In the summer it is battle and assault; in the winter it is 
parade and garrison. There are hours when it seems to me 
that Christine is a phantom. A night has sufficed to rnaice 
her vanish. Where is slie now ? AVliy hasslie disappeared ? 
Is she dead or has slie forgotten me ? Twenty times over I 
have written to her, but my letters have remained unan- 
swered. Neither you nor Cydalise, devoted friends though 
you are, have been able to discover anything. You know 
that a short time after my departure, a letter, which was. 
said to be written in her name, invited me to address my 
letters to the Hoi David, Kue de I’Arbalete, care of Maitre 
KSimon. It was affirmed that pressing perils rendered this 
precaution necessary. I wrote but received no reply. 
Finally, taking every risk, I leave noiselessly. I arrive at 
the Kue de I’Arbalete and ask for Maitre Sinion. The pro- 
prietor of the Hoi David replies that he does not know what 
I mean. I return to Flanders with despair in my heart.” 

While the conversation was being prolonged between 
thorn, the sun sank down and was swallowed up by a mass 
(.)f clouds. 

“This hour never comes to me,” M. de Chavailles said, 
“without recalling to me my poor Coq-Heron. He also has 
disappeared.” 

“Itjs only those who disappear that return.” replied 
Paul Emile ; but if I knew where he was concealed, were 
it at the end of the world, I would go to seek him.” 

“ I know, I feel that I have a secret enemy,” said Hector. 
“It is the chevalier, perhaps; but, let it be whom it may, 
if ever I meet him, I will kill him like a dog.” 

“ And you will do well,” replied Paul Emile. 

The two young men made some steps together without 
Sj^eaking. 

12 


178 


THE BOYAL CHASE. 


“ Do you come with me ? ” resumed Hector. 

. “That depends on the route you follow,” roplied Paul 
Emile. 

“Oh! I shall not go far. The officer who commands at 
Bouchain has warned me, by a spy, that I must be to-night 
at an inn situated a league from here. Some sortie I pre- 
sume that he wishes to talk about.” 

“ Does the company go also V ” 

“ No; the company will camp hei'e.” 

“ Good luck, then. I quit you ; the colonel of the Artois 
regiment leaves on an expedition to-night even; he has 
asked me to accompany him and I have accepted. An inn 
is not worth a skirmish.” 

“ That is evident.” 

“If the officer who commands at Bouchain has some 
enterprise to propose to you, let me know.” 

“ I will not fail to do so.” 

At the moment when the two friends were going to sepa- 
rute, a soldier suddenly arrived and informed M. de Cha- 
vailles that a man, who had wished to introduce himself 
into the camp and who had been prevented from doing so, 
wished to speak to him. 

“He has arrived -at a gallop,” added the soldier, “the 
sentinels have discharged their muskets at him but he has 
kept straight on. Eight or ten of my comrades threw 
themselves upon him, but he felled five or six of them. 
Blood was going to flow when the lieutenant intervened.” 

“Has he told his name.” 

“ He calls himself by a singular name— Coq-Heron.” 

“Coq-Heron!” exclaimed Hector and Paul Emile, and 
both of them ran with all haste toward the camp. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE BROC D ’argent. 

Hector and M. de Fourquevaux were not more than 
two or three hundred steps from the camp, when the pris- 
oner, disengaging himself from the soldiers who retained 
him, ran toward the two gentlemen. Scarcely had the old 
soldier — for it was he — reached ]M. de Chavailles, than, seiz- 
ing his two hands with a singular ardor, he embraced him 
several times without speaking. 

“Parbleu! I must embrace you also!” exclaimed Paul 
flmile, throwing himself on the'neck of the old servitor. 

“You are here. — You have watched over him! ” replied 
tlie soldier pressing the gentleman to his breast. 

M. de Fourquevaux turned aside, to conceal his eyes. 

Coq-H6ron again took M. de Chavailles by his twm hands 
in order to see him better. 

“At last!” he said with the profound f^igh of a man 
whose wishes are accomplished. 


THE ROYAL CEASE. 


m 


Hector’s emotion was not less keen than that of Coq- 
Heron ; it seemed that since Coq-Heron had returued to 
him that he ought to soon find Christine. 

“ Ah! My brave fellow, where do you come from ? From 
Cochin China or Monornotapa ? ” said Paul Emile. 

‘‘You do not know how well you guess it,” replied Coq- 
Heron. “I have seen the country from which the sun 
comes, and where the women — through economy undoubt- 
edly — dress like our Mother Eve,” 

“ Beautiful country ! ” interrupted M. de Fourduevaux. 

“ Ah! You think so ? I should like to see you there.” 

“ I should like it to.” 

“ The youth of to-day speaks without knowing things. 
That country, Monsieur, is peopled with musquitoes who 
tattoo you with bites, with serpents who kill you, absolutely 
like a woman kills the reputation of her friend, with strokes 
of the tongue, with tigers who eat soldiers for their dessert, 
with scorpions who conceal themselves in your hair as in a 
bunch of shrubbery. Oh! the people who wished to get 
rid of me knew geography well ; among all the countries of 
the earth, they chose the most unhealthy. As to the 
women, the thought of which rejoices you, Monsieur, they 
are yellow like citrons.” 

“ The color makes no difference.” 

“ You talk like a pagan.” 

“I have no prejudices.” 

“ But how have 5^)U come to visit countries so remote ? ” 
M. de Chavailles said in his turn. 

“Do you imagine that the choice of localities has been 
left to me ? Ah ! Monsieur le Marquis, why did you not 
permit me to follow you to Flanders ? You would have 
spared me a journey of five months on board the frigate 
As/rert.” 

“It is true then that you were carried off?” said Paul 
Emile. 

• “ I was taken and throwm into a carriage, guarded by a 
body of archers. We arrived at Brest, where a frigate re- 
ceived us on board.” 

“ Why did you not write to M. de Eiparfonds or M. de 
Fourquevaux? ” said Hector. 

“ For the reason that I had neither pens nor paper, and if 
I had had them, could hardly have used them with my hands 
tied behind my back.” 

“ A good reason.” 

“Sol think. Well, finally we arived at Pondichery, where 
I concluded I wmuld learn why I had been carried aw^ay. 
I was incorporated in a regiment of infantiy, and sent to 
the frontiers. After four years of skirmishes, I seriously 
took the resolution of leaving the Indies; but the pro- 
ject Was more easy to conceive than to execute. There 
was in the regiment an officer who had conceived an af- 
fection for me, because, when out hunting, I had disem- 


180 


THE BOYAL CHASE. 


barrassed him of a tigres^ who ^Yas caressing him too close ; 
this officer was on the point of leaving for France ; I con- 
fided to him my project of returning there, he consented to 
aid me, and, thanks to his protection I escaped the surveil- 
lance of the custom-house officers. The captain of the 
frigate received me through consideration for the officer 
who was a friend of his; I was placed in a chest, and at 
nightfall was carried on board the sliip. 

“Eh! eh! this is the first time 1 have heard of a soldier 
who travels like a mummy,” said Paul Emile. 

“ The idea is mine ; do not ridicule it.” 

“ Oh no! I even think it original and suitable to figure in 
a Turkish ballet.” 

“ Let me finish. Monsieur. Once arrived on board the 
frigate, I left my chest; the wind was good, and the idea of 
seeing France again gave me a gayetj' of which I did not 
believe myself capable two days previous. We stopped at 
Bourbon, then again at the Azores, then at Lisbon, and 
each time that the anchor fell, I ran to the geograi>hical 
maps to see what distance still separated me fiom Loiient, 
where we were going. We arrived there ten days ago. 
You see that I have not lost time.” 

“ So you have entered Paris like a courier?” said Hec- 
tor. 

“ Preceding my officer who was running post for the 
King’s service. As soon as I reached Paris, I pushed 
straight on to the Hue St. Honore. I struck at M. de Kip- 
arfonds’ door ; there I learnt that you had been , away five 
years, that you were still in Flanders, and it was not known 
when you would return. I did not wish to hear more and 
set out immediately ; I have arrived at the bivouac of the 
regiment of Saintouge ; they indicated to me where I would 
find your company, I fly to it and behold your sentinels 
welcome me by a volley of balls.” 

“ That was because you entered the camp at a gallop and 
without replying to the quivive.’*' 

“Oh! I do not blame them; your sentinels have done 
their duty; only, in their place, I would not have missed.” 

“ Do you complain of their awkardness? ” 

“ No, it is simply a passing reflection.” 

Deep silence reigned awhile which was broken by Coq- 
Heron. 

“Ah! Monsieur le Marquis,” he suddenly resumed, “ the 
thought that you were at least Marshal of Franco sustained 
me during my Asiatic campaigns, and behold I find 3^011 as 
I left you, a simple captain, and captain of a horde of cava- 
liers who look like bandits rather than soldiers.” 

“Believe me,” said Hector, “there are circum.stances 
when Lille is as far from Versailles as Pondich^rj".” 

“What then has happened during my absence ? ” asked 
Hector. 

“Nothing” replied M. de Chavailles, “my history is 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


181 


summed up in four words I have come and I have re- 
mained.’* 

“ An invisible hand is at work,” said Coq-Heron. 

“Certainly,” interrupted Paul Emile, “ but this hand 
being invisible, as you observe, it is not easy to discover 
it.” 


“ We shall seek. Monsieur, and in seeking well—” 

“ That is what we have been doing for five years.” 

“ We shall continue ten, twenty years if it is necessary.” 

“In the meantime, we shall have leisure to get killed, and 
it is on a mission of that kind I am going to employ myself 
to-night,” continued Paul Emile rising up. 

“ Thus you leave ? ” said Hector. 

“ My faith, yes! Coq-Heron has finished his Odyssey, I 
am going to continue my Iliad.” 

Hector called a quarter-master, and commanded him to 
mount on horseback with seven or eight gentlemen to es- 
cort M. de Fourquevaux to the bivouac of the Artois regi- 
ment. M. de Fourquevaux wished to protest at first, but 
Hector reminded him that he might lose his way, and he ac- 
cepted. He pressed the hand of M. de Chavailles, saluted 
Coq-Heron gaily and went away singing an air of Lully. 

“ He is gay in spite of himself,” murmured M. de Chav- 
ailles. 

After he had disappeared in the darkness of the night. 
Hector gave his orders to his Lieutenant for the encamp- 
ment, and having had two horses brought, one for himself, 
the other for Coq-Heron, he moved away in the direction of 
the inn where the officer who commanded at Bouchain had 
begged him to go. 

Hector and Coq-Heron followed a road bordered by high 
hedges. It was one of those starless nights when a deceit- 
ful clearness plays upon the ground. They could see the^ 
outlines of the great poplars on the border of the road, but 
houses, heaps of rock, accidents of ground were all con- 
founded together. , 

“Have you remarked any familiar face among the archers 
who carried you off,” Hector asked Coq-Heron. 

“ No ; but it seemed to me that the chief of them answered 
to the name of Coquelicot.” 

“ We must remember that.” 

“ Oh ! Coquelicot acted for the Chevalier.” 

“Then you have the same suspicions as myself.” 

“Yes.” 

At this moment they reached an inn. It was a building 
of an ugly appearance, and on both sides of the door was to 
be seen too or three bottles painted on the wall in company 
with some foaming pots of beer. For sign the inn bore the 
metaphoric inscription of : Au Broc cV Argent. Two or three' 
lights shone at the windows. A man, surrounded by a 
cloak, came out of a low door and walked away. Hector 
seized Coq-Heron’s arm. 


182 tee royal cease!. 


“ Have you seen that man ? ” said he. 

“ Yes.” 

“Have you remarked nothing? ” 

“No, lie lias passed like a phantom.” 

“I thoiiglit I recognized the Clievalier.” 

“ Here, at this hour ? the Chevalier ! What folly ! ” 

“ You are right, I have deceived myself.” 

“After all, we might see,” said Coq-Heron, spurring his 
horse. 

“No, no! ” said Hector laying his hand on the bridle; “ it 
is useless.— If it is the Chevalier, we shall know it soon 
enough. It is better to let this man believe that we have 
not perceived him.” 

It this moment the innkeeper came out. 

“ Enter, messieurs, enter! ” said the Fleming. 

“Oats for our horses and wine for ourselves,” replied 
Hector, “ is all that we need.” 

“Nothing fails at the Broc (V Argent, said the host; 
“ only it is so well patronized, that your lordship will have 
to content youiself with a flagon of beer for refreshment, 
and a pile of straw, in the barn, to sleep on.” 

“What! not a room where one can sleep between sheets 
like a Christian ? ” said Coq-HO’on.i 

“Not one; the last has just been retained by an honest 
merchant of Bruges, who is expecting one of his associates 
from Bethune.” 

“ Is it the man who has just left the inn ? ” asked Hector; 
“ a man clothed in a great cloak.” 

“That is he; he was going to meet his friend; hb has 
taken the room and payed for it in advance. They have 
business to talk over all night, and he who has'arrived first 
lias strongly urged me to let no one mount to their room.” 

, “ Listen,’’ said Hector; “I feel very weary since I have 

got off my horse. See if you can not find me a bed.” 

“ I have a little cabinet where I sleep, but it is next to the 
room of those two merchants, and in paying for the room, 
they have also payed for the cabinet.” 

“ How much? ” 

“ Five florins.” 

“Here are ten— I am dying with sleep, and you can not 
push cruelty so far as to refuse money which the duties of 
hospitality command you to accept.” 

“But, Monseigneur,” said the host stuffing the florins in 
his pocket, “ think that these merchants have great need of 
silence for their calculations.” 

“ I will sleep like an owl.” 

“ Without noise ? ” added the innkeeper scratching his ear. 

“Yes.” 

“ In that case. Monsieur, we will prepare the bed for 
you,” said the innkeeper, climbing the stairs. 

“ Ah! Monsieur, what is your idea in wishing to be in this 
cabinet? ” asked Coq-Heron. 


THE ROYAL CHASiE. 


183 


“ A suspicion has traversed my mind, T wish to clear it 
up; that is all. If I am deceived, it will have cost me ten 
florins, and that is nothing. If I have seen well, we shall 
hold the chevalier.” 

“ What! you believe — ” 

“ That these merchants are not merchants.” 

“ Do you take them for princes ? ” 

“ When I have seen them, I shall answer you.’ 

“Well, as I do not care to hear a conversation about 
clotli, I am going away.” 

“ Where are you going ? ” 

“ To our horses.” 

Saying which Coq-Heron started off. 

“One word! ” said Hector. 

“ What is it ? ” said the valet. 

“If a peddler comes to ask for Petit-Pierre the jockey, 
warn me immediately. The peddler is a partisan whom I 
am expecting — the jockey is myself.” 

“Ah! diable! ” said Coq-Heron rubbing his hands, “are 
we going on an expedition ? ” 

“ Perhaps.” 

“ In that case I will see that the horses have a double al- 
lowance.” 

Coq-H4ron disappeared under, the stable-door, and M. de 
Chavailles gained the stairway which conducted to the up- 
per story. The innkeeper was waiting for him, candle in 
hand. 

“The bed is ready. Monsieur,” said he. “You know 
what you promised.” 

“ Parbleu ! I consent to get out if a sigh is heard.” 

The host left the candle in Hector’s hands and disap- 
peared. This story of two merchants who payed fifteen 
florins for a room and a cabinet, taken in connection with 
the singular resemblance which one of them bore to the 
chevalier, appeared very suspicious to jM. de Chavailles. 
He had not been alone ten minutes when he heard walking 
in the road; he leaned out of the window, and distinctly 
saw two men directing their course toward the inn, one on 
horseback, the other on foot. The innkeeper advanced and 
took the bridle out of the cavalier’s hands. The cavalier 
leaped lightly to the ground and followed his comrade, not 
without charging the innkeeper to take good care of his 
horse. 

“ Give him a good measure of oats and leave the saddle 
on,” said he. 

“ And when he is through eating,” added the other, 
“ hitch him to that iron ring at the door, and do the same 
with mine, also.” 

“And above all,” said the first speaker, “ not a word of 
our visit, or I cut off your ears.” 

The two strangers spoke Flemish, a tongue which had be- 
come familiar to M* de Chavailles, 


I 


184 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“Ell! eh! ” be said to himself, “here are two merchants 
who talk rather loud.” 

A moment after,* he heard the wooden steps of the stair- 
w^ay creak under the tread of the two strangers w^ho 
mounted with great agility. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE TWO MEKCHANTS. ' 

The key of a neighboring door turned in the lock, and the 
two strangers entered the room contiguous to the cabinet 
occupied by Hector. Hector pricked up his ears and he 
heard two or three heavy objects placed upon a table. One 
of the cavaliers then pulled up two chairs close to the table. 
Hector glued his face to an interstice that was in the wall 
and he saw two pairs of pistols and two swords lying upon 
the table. The two men were seated opposite each other. 
Ilector could only see the large hat which the one next to 
him wore; the other wore a great beard which concealed 
his mouth and mounted to his eyes. Hector was thoroughly 
convinced that he had to deal with merchants of a particu- 
lar species. 

“You come from Versailles?” said the pretended mer- 
chant whose face w^as to Hector. 

“ In a direct line,” replied the other. 

“ Have you concluded the bargain ? ” 

“Almost.” 

“ He accepts then ? ” 

“ There are still some scruples to combat, but we will 
overcome. them with a little gold.” 

“ Have you the information I asked of you with regard to 
various persons of the court ? ” 

“ Here it is. Monseigneur.” 

He to whom these last words were addressed, raised his 
eyes quickly and frowned. 

“ We are alone,” said the other, as if to excuse himself. 

“ It matters not, there are some words w^hich might ruin 
everything. ' I am a merchant, do not forget it.” 

The other stranger, without replying, drew some' papers 
from his pocket and displayed them on the table. The pre- 
tended merchant facing M. de Chavailles and to whom the 
epithet of monseigneur had been given, took them up and 
read them. 

“ Here are those which may be necessary to you ; I keep 
the rest,” lie said. 

He divided the papers, and handed the smaller part to his 
accomplice. 

“ Is everything ready? ” ho added. 

“Almost everything.” 

“ Therefore you will strike the great blow soon ? ” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


185 


“ I hope SO.” 

The man with the gray cloak supported both of his arms 
on the narrow table which separated him from his inter- 
locutor and spoke to him quite low. Hector could only hear 
a few words such as Meudon, the Dauphiness, Marly; as to 
the sense in which they were used, he could distinguish 
nothing. 

“Have you the proof of it?” suddenly asked the man 
who seemed to have the authority. 

“ Here,” replied the other, drawing a small portfolio from 
his pocket. 

“Let us see,” said the first speaker, who advanced his 
hand with a quick movement. 

He unfolded the paper which his accomplice handed to 
him, and ran over it rapidly. 

“ This paper will rejoin the others in the ebony casket,” 
said he. 

Presently the noise of chairs being moved attracted Hec- 
tor’s attention; the two m'erchants had just risen; both of 
them buckled on their swords and stuck their pistols in 
their belts. They opened the door and descended the 
w’ooden stairway. They left the inn, mounted their horses, 
and rode away at a gallop. 

They had scarcely started when M. de Chavailles fell from 
the window before the innkeeper. The brave Fleming 
made a bound to one side as if a devil had suddenly 
emerged from under his feet. 

“If you cry out,” Hector said to him, “you are a dead 
man.” 

“Eh! Monsieur, T have scarcely enough strength to 
speak; how do you expect me to cry out? ” murmured the 
poor man in a stifled voice. 

Hector was running to the stable when he perceived Coq- 
Heron coming out of it. 

“Hey! Monsieur,” the valet called out to him, “ there is 
a peddler here who has business with your lordship.” 

Hector made some steps forward and saw a man standing 
near a bench. 

“ I am pressed for time, speak quick,” said he. 

“The governor charges me to warn you that he will leave 
at day-break,” replied the peddler. 

“Well!” 

“The rendezvous is at St. Wast.” 

“ Good enough.” 

“ He will attack the works of the sunken road with three 
thousand infantry.” 

“ Good ! I will bring him some cavalry.” 

“ Ilis Excellency counts on your making a diversion by 
falling on the enemy’s baggage.” 

“I will do better. The password now,” said M. de Cha- 
vailles presenting the mouth of his pistol to the peddler’s 
face. 


l86 


THE EOYAE CHASE. 


“Tureune!” wliispered the peddler. 

“Toulouse! ” Hector also replied in a whisper. 

“Now, to horse!” exclaimed he addressing himself to 
Coq-Heron. 

“Here is yours and here is mine! ” replied the soldier, 
who had not waited for his master to tell him to bridle the 
horses. 

“ Thanks my bravo fellow. Now take this man behind 
you, and get to the bivouac of the company. You will in- 
quire for the lieutenant and hand him this paper. He will 
mount his horse and all our men will act likewise. You and 
thev will rejoin me.” 

“^Vhere? ” 

“ At St. Wast. As to you,” saia Hector turning to the 
peddler, “ you will get a horse at the bivo\iac and go to the 
Artois regiment; you undoubtedly know where it is ? ” 

“At three leagues from here, on the border of the Seu- 
see.” 

“ You will ask for a gentleman named M. de Fourquevaux 
and you will say to him, on my part, that there will be 
dancing at day-break in the direction of St.Wast and that I 
desire him to assist at the fete.” 

“The Artois regiment and M. de Fourquevaux; I will 
forget nothing.” 

“ Leave, now, and do not spare your horses! ” exclaimed 
Hector leaping into the saddle. 

The peddler got up behind Coq-Heron, and each one went 
his way. After he had galloped for the space of two min- 
utes in the direction of St. Wast, Hector set foot on the 
ground and extended himself flat on the stomach in the 
road. His ear touched the soil and he restrained his respi- 
ration to hear better. At the end of a second or two, he rose 
up ; a distant sound betrayed the rapid gallop of several 
horses. 

“Well!” murmured Hector launching himself on the 
traces of the two merchants, “ they follow the road in a 
straight line.” 

And, di awing his large sword, he blazed the bark on an 
elm to his right. He i^peated this every hundred steps. 
When he had galloped a quarter of an hour, he discovered 
two shadows flying rapidly in the direction of the Abbey of 
St. Wast. Presently the two cavaliers separated, one of 
them taking a ])ath that led to the right and the other a 
path thfit led to the left. Hector advanced to the place 
where the road divided. One of the paths descended to- 
ward a flat where the white walls of an abbey could be dis- 
tinguished ; the other led to a wood in front of which some 
tents were pitched. 

“ Heie is the camp,” Hector said to himself. 

His eyes were measuring its extent, when he heard the 
challenge of an invisible sentinel. 

“ Who goes there V ” was said in German. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


187 


Thanks to the limpidity and profound calm of the night, 
-the sound came clear and distinct to M. de Chavailles; but 
the sentinel was at least a gun-shot off. 

“Regiment of the Empress’ . cavalry,” replied in Ger- 
man the vibrating voice of the cavalier whom' M. de Chav- 
ailles had been following for an hour. 

The sentinel cried halt to the cavalier, and soon the foot- 
steps of several horses indicated to M.de Chavailles that an 
officer was advancing to scrutinize the nocturnal prome- 
nader. 

Hector descended from his horse, hitched it to. a tree and 
walked softly toward the line of the bivouac. Arrived at 
the foot of an elevation covered with thick bushes, he as- 
cended it, lay down upon the grass and looked before him 
to study well 'the position of the camp which he had re- 
solved to attack. He could perceive the sentinels scattered 
here and there. Behind the camp was a great wood, and to 
the right a marsh. 

“Hum ! ” said Hector, “the position is strong; if I do 
not succeed in the attack it will be my last expedition.” 

He slowly descended the hillock, and returned to the tree 
where he had left his horse. At this monient, the clock at 
the Abbey of St. Wast struck three. 

“ Before an hour it will almost be light, and I must attack 
under cover of darkness,” thought Hector. 

Presentl.y he heard a noise like that which would be made 
by a troop of horse. 

“ My company is coming,” he murmured. 

Hector pushed forward, and soon distinguished a black 
mass which was bearing down on him rapidly. At the head 
of this troop he recognized Coq-H4ron and cried to him to 
halt. The soldiers stopped, and the lieutenant approached 
the captain. 

“I have a communication to make to you. Monsieur,” 
said the lieutenant, drawing M. de Chavailles aside. 

“Speak, my dear Lobr4gat,” said Hector. 

“This night, while you whereat the Broc d/ Argent, we 
have surprised a partisan of the enemy. This man has 
confessed, with a pistol at his throat, that Prince Eugene in 
person is at St. Wast.” 

“ At St. Wast! ” exclaimed Hector. 

“ Yes, the. Regiment of the Empress’ cavalry accompa- 
nies him.” 

“ So one of their spies has informed me.” 

“ He is also accompanied by some Hungarian hussars.” 

The lieutenant’s revelation was a ray of light for Hector; 
one of the false merchants of the Broc d’ Argent was Prince 
Eugene. If his resolution might have been shaken for a 
moment, the name of France’s greatest enemy no longer 
permitted him to hesitate. Prince Eugene appeared mixed 
up in some black intrigue which it concerned the safety of 
the King to unravel. An occasion was offered to M. de 


I 


188 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


Chavailles to.render to Louis XIV., who had forgotten him, 
a signal service. Hector collected around him the officers 
of his company, made the soldiers form a circle, and, rais- 
ing his sword, he said : 

“ Messieurs, Prince Eugene is before you, at St. Wast, in 
a strong position. He has with him fifteen or eighteen 
hundred veteran soldiers. I have resolved to attack him. 
They are five to our one, but you fight for the king, for 
Prance, and you are worth a thousand of them. To you, 
soldiers of the Regiment of Saintouge, may belong the 
honor of delivering Louis XIV. from his most implacable 
enemy. Can I count upon you, and will you follow me ? ” 

“ Yes! yes! ” cried the cavaliers brandishing their sabres. 

^ “ If any one wishes to retire, let him leave the ranks. 
On the faith of a gentleman, I give him full liberty to go 
away,” said Hector, who knew the men with whom he had 
to deal. 

“No! no! ” cried the electrified company. 

M. de Chavailles saluted the company with, his hat. 

“Well! messieurs! follow me; we will conquer or die to- 
gether,” said he with sword elevated. 

“ What a folly,”“murmured Coq-Heron. 

Hector looked him through. 

“Parbleu! what I say is to encourage you,” added the 
old soldier. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE ATTACK. 

Hector confided his plans of attack to the officers of his 
little staff. He had resolved to divide his troop into two 
columns; one, under his orders, would push straight on to 
the camp and attack in front; the other, conducted by M. 
de Lobregat, would turn the line of the bivouac and fall 
upon the enemy’s flank. M. de Lobregat, who was a Gas- 
con officer, very prudent in planning and of an unparalleled 
audacity in execution, rubbed his hands. 

“You do not give me the best part, captain,” said he ; 
“ but it matters not, I will follow you close.” 

The attack resolved on and the orders given, the company 
was ranged in order of battle; M. de Lobregat took half of 
it, and M. de Chavailles put himself at the head of the other 
half, and they advanced toward the bivouac of the regi- 
ment of the Empress’ cavalry. M. de Lobregat first 
pushed forward, reconnoitered the -ground with ' his own 
eyes, and turned to the left to gain the verge of the wood. 
While M. de Lobregat was effecting this movement, a sol- 
dier detached himself from the ranks of Hector’s company, 
set feet on the ground as soon as the bivouac fires were in 
sight and turned to the right of the sentinel who watched 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


189 


in the middle of the path. Agile and mute as a serpent, he 
advanced cra\yling among the brush-wood, passed behind 
the sentinel withbut being seen, and leaping suddenly upon 
the croup of the horse, plunged bis poniard up to the guard 
in the soldier’s neck. The soldier extended bis arms and 
rolled to the ground without uttering a single cry. 

“The passage is free,” said the cavalier, when he had re- 
turned to where Hector was. 

“ Forward ! ” said Hector throwing to him his purse. 

The company followed its chief. No cry stopped them 
when they appeared in the path ; but when they had 
. traversed the line of sentinels, those who were closest to the 
right and to the left, astonished at the silence which ac- 
companied the march of this cavalry corps cried almost at 
the same time: Qidvive!^’ No one replied. Two musket 

shots were fired at the same time. Hector set spurs to the 
fianks of his horse. 

“ Gallop! ” he cried in a voice of thunder; and his troop 
charged the bivouac sabres in hand. 

The sentries, awakened in surprise by this double deto- 
nation, discharged their muskets at this* horde of cavaliers, 
and fell back upon the main guard, which was overthrown 
in a moment. *Coq-Heron who had not smelt the scent of 
powder for five or, six months, could not keep still. He ran 
like a demon, reclining upon his horse’s neck, pistol in one 
hand and sabre in the other. 

“ Everything goes well,” Hector said, “ they flee on all 
sides like scholars on a freebooting expedition.” 

“Wait a minute, and we shall be beautifully received,” 
the soldier replied ; “ I have known Prince Eugene for some 
time.” 

The troop kept on, devouring the ground and overthrow- 
ing everything upon its passage. But already the sound of 
trumpets was heard, and the voices of the officers who were 
forming the companies in order of battle. As they were no 
longer more than a hundred steps from the front standard 
of the encampment, a vigorous discharge mowed down 
some soldiers around Hector and Coq-Heron. 

“ It is growing warm ! ” said the valet. 

“ Forward! ” exclaimed the chief in a vibrating tone of 
voice, and urging on his horse, he fell upon the ranks of 
.the Imperials. All along the line ■was heard the crack of 
pistol shots; the clashing of sabres was mixed with the 
noise of the detonations, and a hand to hand contest was 
waged in the midst of .the half transparent shadows. 

At the first shock, the echo of a discharge upon the side 
of the bivouac, next to the wood, surprised the Imperials. 

“ Good ! ” said Coq-Heron, “ that is M. de Lobregat play- 
ing a little air of his own. Pretty music, my faith.” 

And in sign of rejoicing, the brave soldier gallantly thrust 
his sabre into the body of a Hungarian hus.'^^ar who had had 
the impudence to attack him. The regiment of light horse 


190 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


did not resist the violence of the onslaught of the soldiers 
of M. de Chavailles, The first rank, broken like a wall upon 
which cannon balls fall, fell back upon the second, and con- 
fusion resulted among the ill formed squadrons. Hector 
perceived this disorder and encouraged his troop to fight 
harder. These cavaliers, accustomed under his orders to 
brave the greatest perils, ardent, and familiar with.the most 
hazardous enterprises, multiplied their strokes and com- 
pletely demoralized the Imperial companies. Hector, in 
the thick of the fight, sought with his eyes Prince Eugene’s 
tent; a flag which unfurled to the wind an eagle with tw^o 
heads, designated it to him ; it was in the centre and slightly 
to the rear of the bivouac. Tw’o sentinels on horseback 
were stationed in front, musket in hand. Hector pointed it 
out to Coq-Heron with the end of his sw^ord. 

“I am going there,” said he. 

“I follow you,” cried the soldier. 

In three bounds he had rejoined the Marquis. The 
soldiers of the Saintouge regiment had made a hole in the 
Empress’ light horse. Hector passed like a flash through the 
opening bet\veen the two trunks of the enemy’s corps, and 
pushed straight on to the general’s tent. The two sentinels 
fired hastily and pounced upon the aggressor, w’ho had 
avoided the shots ; but one of the men encountered M. de 
Chavailles and the other one Coq-Heron. The four swords 
shone like flames in the air, and the two sentinels rolled to 
the horses’ feet; Hector and Coq-Heron leaped over their 
dead bodies, and arrived before the tent wdiich they found 
defended by some soldiers on foot and some valets armed 
with pikes, sabres and pistols. 

“Ah! rascals, you embarrass the door! ” said Coq-H4ron, 
and he charged them with raised sword. 

The two first who made a show of resistance fell with 
heads split open ; two others rolled upon the grass with 
bodies pierced through and through, and the rest dis- 
banded. Prince Eugene’s tent w'as high and vast. Hector 
and Coq-H6ron entered it on horseback. But two equerries 
of the prince — the most faithful ones — had entrenched 
themselves there, pistols in hand. One of the equerries 
raised his pistol and fired; but the shot, ill directed, 
scratched Hector’s wuist, who plunged his sword into the 
throat of the awdcward fellow. The other fired, but so 
hastily, that his ball traversed Coq-Heron’s hat, three 
inches from his ear. 

“ Ah ! rascal, you deface my property ! ” cried the soldier, 
and wdth a pistol shot he broke the backbone of the flying 
equerry. 

“The place is now clear,” said he looking around him. 

Hector dismounted and searched everyw’here in the light 
of a flambeau which was burning upon a table. The bed, 
still intact in a compartment of the tent, indicated that 
Prince Eugene had not retired and that he must have gone 


THE ttOYAL CHASE. 


191 


out at the first alarm of the sentinels. A gray felt hat and 
a cloak were lying on a chair near the bed. Hector recog- 
nized the hat and the cloak which had been worn by one of 
the pretended merchants at the Broc d’ Argent. 

“ What are you seeking here ? ” asked Coq-Heron who 
was still upon his horse'. o 

“ A casket of ebony wood,” replied Hector who was rum- 
maging everywhere. 

“ What! it is for a casket that you have exposed us to a 
thousand deaths ? ” 

“ Yes, my friend, and if you can aid me in finding it, you 
will give me pleasure.” 

“But, Monsieur, a multitude of brave ^len are fighting 
around us.” 

“ Let them fight and help me search.” 

Coq-Heron shook his head. 

“By your manner of reasoning, it is to be seen that I 
have been away from you too long, and I imagine that you 
are going to give me trouble for leaving you to your own 
devices to neglect a good meUe of iron and lead for a 
wretched casket. I ask you if that is like a man with com- 
mon sense.” 

While growling thus, Coq-Heron had got down and was 
seeking on one side while M. de Chavailles was seeking on 
the other. 

“ Why is this casket so precious ? ” asked Coq-Heron. 
“ Is it of diamond, pure gold, or fine pearls ? ” . 

And while talking, he sounded each corner with the end 
of his blood stained sword. 

“ I have told you that it is of ebony wood and that is all I 
know about it.” 

“It is very beautiful, and the thing is worth fighting 
for.” 

Hector found nothing, each second passed in useless re- 
searches appeared a century to him ; the noise of the furious 
combat taking place around the tent, increased from 
minute to minute. 

“ I will have it,” said Hector, “ if it is necessary to fire 
the tent and fumble in its ashes.” 

Suddenly an idea illuminated his brain ; the two equerries 
who had waited inside the tent, had both placed themselves 
near the bed, the one at the head, the other at the foot, at 
the entrance of the compartment where this bed was 
erected. Hector ran there, passed over one of the dead 
men, pushed back the bed and discovered in an obscure 
recess, a coffer of oak wood studded with nails. Hector 
knelt down, took a pistol from his belt, blew open the lock, 
raised the cover and drew from the inside of the coffer a 
very pretty casket of ebony wood, mounted with silver. 

'' Ei'ohe!” he exclaimed. 

“Good! if you speak Hebrew, you will no longer be un- 
derstood! ” said Coq-Heron. 


192 


THE ROYAL CHASE, 


“ Listen to wliat I am going to say to 3"0u in good French 
and do not fail to execute it like a good soldier,” Hector re- 
plied. 

“When you have told me what it is, we shall see.” 

“You are going to take this casket.” 

“That is not difficult.” 

“ You will remount your horse.” 

“That is still more eas3^” 

“And you will leave at a gallop.” 

“You know the saying: ‘Jean went away as he had 
come ! ’ ” 

“ When you shall have got out of the fight—” 

“ All ! I must leave it ? ” 

“You must.” 

“Hum! that is distasteful.” 

“ Yes, but it is indispensable.” 

“ It is well ; I shall endeavor to do what j^ou wish.” 

“ You will push on to the Broc cV Argent without looking 
behind j’^ou.” 

“ And when I shall be at this devil of an inn ” 

“You will wait for me.” 

“That is the tiresome side of the commission.” 

Coq-Heron leaped into the saddle and M. de Chavailles 
did the same. At the moment of starting out, the soldier 
took the flambeau that was on tlie table and apiiliod it to a 
corner of the canvas. 

“ The/efe lacks light, I wisli to give it some,” said he. 

“ By-the-way,” said Hector while the flames mounted to 
the ceiling of this light edifice, “I was going to forget the* 
most important part about the affair.” 

“Speak then!” 

“If perchance I do not return, it will be because I am 
dead.” 

“Dead! ” repeated Coq-TIcron growing pale. 

“ These things happen to everybody; you will then take 
the casket and carry it to M. de Bipari'onds.” 

Coq-Heron raised up the casket as if to throw it in the 
fire. Hector seized him by the arm. 

“Do as I say, my friend, it concerns my happiness!” 
said Hector. 

Coq-Heron sighed like a man who does violence to his 
inclinations. 

“ You wish it ? ” said he. 

“Yes.” 

“ liec'ollect that if j^ou die without me, you will be respons- 
ible for this crime to your father up there.” 

“Go, I will wait for you,” said Hector, half laughing, 
half serious. 

Coq-Heron fastened the casket to the pommel of the sad- 
dle and picked up the reins. 

“Take care of the casket! ” Hector cried to him ; “ Prince 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


193 


Eugene will be after you like a madman, it he suspects that 
you have carried it off.” 

“Let him come then and take it from me! ” replied the 
soldier. 

In concluding these words, he rode out of the tent on 
which the fire was already preying. AYhen M. de ChavaiJ- 
les reappeared upon the scene of combat, the face of 
things had slightly changed. The first rays of light which 
whitened the sky had shown to the Imperials the small 
number of their assailants; ashamed of having been so 
suddenly scattered by two companies wdiich together did 
not form a third of their regiment, the cavalry had rallied 
and resisted foot by foot ; but they had suffered from the 
cruel losses of the first shock, when the bravest among 
them had fallen as well as a great number of officers, and 
they would not have been able to keep up the struggle 
long, if Prince Eugene, gathering together in columns the 
Hungarian hussars who were bivouacing on the side of the 
marsh, had not fallen upon the French. The audacity and 
personal bravery of Piince Eugene are well known. He 
would have been a terrible captain of bandits if he had not 
been one of the first generals of his age. The soldiers of 
the regiment of Saintougo, pressed by an ardent and 
numerous enemj', closed their already thinned ranks and 
put themselves on the defensive. It was then tliat jM. de 
Chavailles reappeared; his company no longer perceiving 
him in the thickest of the melee, had believed him dead ; 
his return was saluted by a thousand acclamations; a new 
ardor took possessioTi of those brave troops already dec- 
imated by death, and they did not despair of conquering, 
since their chief was returned to tliem. At the first look 
which he threw upon the field of battle. Hector understood 
that a further contest was almost impossible; all that he 
was permitted to attempt was a retreat, and he could not 
flatter himself that he should succeed in that without con- 
siderable loss. Suddenly the fire, which was devouring 
Prince Eugene’s tent, spread to the neighboi ing tents and 
embraced them; a red and fluctuating light was mixed with 
the pale rays of the dawn, and the combat began again 
with unabated fury. Prince Eugene, wounded in his pride 
as a military chief," irritated at having been surpi ised in his 
bivouac, in the midst of the most tried soldiers of his army, 
full of resentment against an enemy who had pushed au- 
dacity so far as to attack his lines, though inferior in num- 
ber, wished to avenge himself by destroying at a single 
stroke his adversary’s entire corps. Active as a simple 
captain, he recalled to their standards the disbanded com- 
panies, brought back in line the shaken squadrons, rallied 
the dispersed soldiers, bore himself everywhere the danger 
was most pressing, braved the fire, charged in person 
and showed to all the example of courage and firmness. 
After a happy discharge, before which the enemy had re- 

13 


194 


TJIE ROYAL CHASE. 


tired in disorder, Hector, whose clothes were riddled by 
balls and slashed by sabre cuts, gave the order to beat a 
retreat. The Hungarian hussars were seen rallying under 
their officers who pointed out the French with the ends of 
tlK'ir swords. 

•‘The danger begins here,” said M. de Lobregat, whose 
face and hands were covered with blood; “I am very much 
afraid that this time we will all be left here.” 

“May God watch over us! ” said Hector. 

The two officers exchanged a grasp of the hand, and ran 
to the rear guard. In three minutes a charge was made 
conducted by Prince Eugene in person. The mSlee was 
terrible, a hand to hand contest; but finally, thanks to the 
solidity of that cavalry, to the desperate energy of its de- 
fense, the hussars were repulsed. 

“We might almost say like Pyrrhus,” exclaimed M. de 
Lobregat; “ ‘ another victory like this, and we are lost.’ ” 

Hector looked at his troop reforming its broken ranks, 
and at the enemy preparing itself for a new and more fu- 
rious attack. 

“I have the casket, but it will cost me my life,” he mur- 
mured. 

He thought of Christine, recommended his soul to God, 
and prepared to die. At this moment and as the Imperial 
officers were brandishing their swords for commanding the 
charge, a great noise was heard on the fiank of the enemy’s 
squadrons; all eyes were turned toward the plain which 
extended to the bivouac and a regiment of cavalry was seen 
advancing in good order. The distance which still separated 
it from the field of battle didjiot permit the recognition of 
which of the two armies it l3elonged to, but, by a tacit ac- 
cord, the belligerent ])arties suspended the struggle. A 
terrible anxiety filled the heart of M. de Chavailles; all 
those brave men who had followed him were lost if the ap- 
proaching regiment marched under the Imperial flag. M. 
de Lobregat, who was munching the hilt of his sword, un- 
derstood what was passing in the captain’s soul. 

“Yes,” said he, “the regiment coming down there means 
safety or death.” 

It was not death which filled with emotion Hector’s 
heart; for six years he had braved it every day. What 
troubled him was the thought of dying without having seen 
Christine. He fixed his looks upon the cloud of dust roll- 
ing before the steps of the cavaliers, and sought to recog- 
nize the folds of the flag behind t\iat pale curtain. It might 
have been a body from the camp of the Imperials who had 
left at the ipise of the combat, or perhaps a part of the 
garrison of j3ouchain, who, as we know, were to attempt a 
sortie on this day. Nevertheless, the indecision of the two 
bodies of cavalry, who, for two hours, had combated with 
uneqnaled obstinacy, was not of lohg duration. The folds 
of a flag which was unfurled were struck by a ray of the 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


195 


rising sun, and the colors of France were recognized. A 
great cry came from the Saintouge Company, and all the 
cavaliers branished theii’ arms in the air ready to charge in 
their turn. Already men and horses could be distinguished ; 
but Prince Eugene, with the ra|)i(lity of an eagle wliich 
pounces upon its prey, charged at the head of the hussars 
without awaiting the enemy’s shock. The two regiments 
came together on a narrow line already heaped witli dead 
bodies; the ranks mixed, there was a frightful clash of 
arms, and nothing was to be seen except a confused mass 
of men and horses wading in blood. 

“ Parbleu ! it is the last minuet; shall we not take part in 
it ? ” said Hector, who had recognized the standard of the 
Artois regiment. 

“I was just going to make the same proposition,” replied 
M. de Lobregat. 

“Come then!-” said M. de Chavailles. 

He urged on his horse, and what was left of his company 
followed him. At the spot where the cavaliers were most 
mixed, where one heard only the rattle of the djdng 
trampled under foot, and the clamors of the wounded, 
where every sabre clashed, where soldiers and horses did 
their utmost, arm against arm, breast against breast, Hector 
encountered Paul Emile. That gentleman’s countenance 
was radiant. Two hussars and a light horseman surrounded 
him. He had just grievously wounded one of the hussars 
and was charging the other, when the light horseman rais- 
ing his sword struck him a terrible blow; M. de Four- 
quevaux, occupied in ridding himself of the hussar, could 
not parry this blow, but Hector threw himself between 
them, and with a single stroke of his sword, caused the 
light horseman’s arm to fall to his side. 

“ Thanks! ” said the gentleman without turning around. 

He continued to push his adversary, and soon the hus- 
sar, wounded to 'the death, fell back upon the croup of his 
horse, ^yho thoroughly frightened carried him away, and 
M. de Fourquevaux extended his hand to his brother in 
arms. 

“ Parbleu ! ” said he looking at Hector, “ I ought to have 
recognized you by that stroke.” 

“You know,” replied Hector, “ that we are dealing with 
Prince Eugene.” 

“Ah ! diable! where is he then ? ” exclaimed Paul Emile. 

“ That is a piece of information I would not neglect, if 
you gave it to me.” 

They were interrupted in the midst of their conversation 
l)y an oscillating movement. Their attention was directed 
to the center of the combat; suddenly the ranks were 
violently torn open, like the folds of a canvas ripped by a 
gust of wind, and a mass of enemies passed through this 
opening with the fury of a torrent. 

“Y^ou asked me where was Prince Eugene,” said Hector, 


196 


THE BOYAL CHASE. 


who divined the unperceived cause of this movement, “ be- 
hold him cutting us in two.” 

‘‘All! the devil of a man, he will escape us,” exclaimed 
Paul ilmile. 

He ran to the place where the ranks had been broken under 
the enemy’s effort, but it was no longer of any avail. The 
charge, conducted by Prince Eugene iiimseif, had opened 
the Artois regiment as a shark breaks the meshes of a net. 
A trail of dead bodies marked the ]iassage of the column 
which fled in the plain. The Artois regiment was fatigued 
by a long journey in the midst of detestable roads, and it 
had not, like the hussars and cavalry of Prince Eugene, the 
enthusiasm of despair and the ferocious animation of a long 
combat. When the two broken wings of the regiment 
united, it was already impossible to reach the Imperials 
galloping in the distance; the best mounted cavaliers were 
launched in pursuit of the last ranks, but it was necessary 
to renounce the hope of taking Prince Eugene. 

M. de Fourquevaux’s horse was wounded so that he could 
not take part in the pursuit. 

“My faith!” said he, “ Prince Eugene has made his re- 
treat like a brave man ; like a lion surrounded by hunters, 
he has passed through the enemy. It is very flattering to 
us that he is a compatriot.” 

“ It is very sad, it seems to me.” 

“Bah! you view things like a moralist; and I like a 
simple soldier; M. de Biparfonds has spoiled you.” 

Hector collected the remnant of his company and passed 
it in review. Half of his men were on the ground; the rest 
were black with powder and red with blood. 

“Messieurs,” said Hector, “you have conducted your- 
selves valiantly; Prince Eugene is in flight, and the King 
will be pleased with you.” 

The soldiers of the Saintouge regiment uttered a triple 
acclamation and scattered themselves in the midst of the 
abandoned bivouac. It was known that the officers of tlie 
Eegiment of the Empress’ cavalry were chosen among the 
best families in Germany. There ought to be much gold 
among the steel and blood of the battle-field.. 

“ You are a man of your word,” said Paul Emile to M. de 
Chavailles; “when I arrived at the Artois regiment, I 
learned that the expedition was postponed. I was much 
vexed, when your partisan has suddenly changed my sad- 
ness into joy. I warned the colonel, we sounded boots and 
saddles, and we started.” 

“Without you, I believe my Odyssey would have termin- 
ated at St. Wast.” IV' : 

“It was certainly time; but what enterprise and what 
temerity.” 

“ Do you blame me ? ” 

“No!' I only admired fortune and your courage, which 
have made it a success. If the sortie of the oflicer who 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


197 


commands at Boiichain had not prevented the enemy from 
quitting his lines, the fuss which you made would have at- 
tracted some regiment to St. Wast, and then—” 

“I have kei)t Prince Eugene from gaining his camp ; it 
was just, in return, that the garrison of Bouchaiii should 
oppose the efforts of the Imperials to leave for St. Wast.” 

“ What a bivouac! Fire in the middle, a combat on the 
line and coi’pses everywhere. There are spectacles calcu- 
lated to make a man gay, and I have never felt in so, fine a 
humor.” 

While M. de Fourquevaux was speaking. Hector’s eyes 
searched the plain. 

“What the devil are you thinking about? ” asked Paul 
ilmile ; “ you pay about as much attention to me, I believe, 
as that old scorched stump.” 

“ I am thinking of replacing my tired out horse by a 
fresh one.” 

“ And what for, if you please ? Have you not yet galloped 
enough to-day.” 

“ I have given a rendezvous to Coq-Heron, and the poor 
beast who trembles under me is not in a state to carry me 
much longer.” 

“And I had forgotten him! pleasure renders us ungrate- 
ful. Where is that poor Coq-Heron? at least he is not 
dead ? ” 

“ I hope not, but, to tell the truth, I can not answer for 
it. I shall know presently.” 

“If you permit' it, we shall travel together.” 

“Willingly.” 

A good horse being found for Hector, Paul Emile set out 
in search of another; several of these animals wandered at 
hazard, without masters; he chose the best oue among 
them, got astride of it, and started gaily with Hector for 
the Broc cV Argent. 


CHAPTEK XXIX. 

THE EBONY CxVSKET. 

Prince Eugene’s hussars and light horse disappeared as 
if by enchantment. The sun was shining clear ; small white 
clouds, softer to the eye than the down of swans, glided in 
the azure of the ^ky like the airy wings of a traveling sjdph. 
The profound calm of nature was in striking contrast to 
the scenes of blood and carnage which the two adventurers 
liad just traversed. It helped to repose their minds. Paul 
Emile coquettishly took off his hat and made use of it as a 
fan. 

“This little expedition has warmed me up,” said he, “but 
I am not dissatisfied.” 

“ You are my kind,” replied Hector. 


198 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“Parbleii! I think you charming! You whom nothing 
moves, you who remain impassible in the face of all events 
like the" water gods in the basins of Versailles, it would be 
surprising if anything should touch you 1 But I who am a 
sensitive plant irritated at the least contact, a leaf agitated 
at the lightest breath, I do not conceal the fact that the ex- 
pedition to which you have invited me has much rejoiced 
me.” 

“So much the better. Therefore, for once, you are not 
too melancholy.” 

“ No, really I I am almost happy.” 

“Ah-bah!” 

“ Behold an avowal which has the privilege of drawing 
you from your stoic indifference. What I said to you was 
to prove that I am of an excellent disposition and that a 
little happiness would suffice to render me hajjpy.” 

“ Your modesty is incredible.” 

“Is it not ? It is marvelous that fate refuses to make me 
this present.” 

“ It is unmannerly.” 

“ But it is necessary to be philosophical. Let us content 
ourselves with wluit it sends us. IMy soul is like a flowery 
springtime and I do not know why I imagine that some of 
it will be reflected on you.” 

“ I accept the augury.” 

Conversing thus they arrived at the Brnc cV Argent. 

A man was upon the route, planted like a post and stiff 
as a stork who watches on the })oint of a steeple. 

“By that [leculiar shape, it is easy to recognize Coq- 
Heron,” said Paul Simile. 

Hector urged on his horse, and the worthy soldier on his 
part made some steps forward. 

“ If you imagine. Monsieur le Marquis, that the commis- 
sions which you give to people are agreeable to carry out, 
you are strangely deceived,” exclaimed Coq-Heron with a 
surly air. ^ 

“ You are not wounded, old fellow ? ” replied Hector with- 
out paying attention to the soldier’s bad humor. 

“I fight, blows rain, and at the most beautiful part of the 
fete, it pleases monsieur to send me away without ceremony. ” 

“The proceeding is not delicate,” said Paul Emile. 

“You need not accuse my master. Who says that in 
packing me off he has not had his project? ” replied Coq- 
Heron addressing himself to M. de Fourqu^vaux. 

“Come, my old Coq, no useless words; the circumstances 
are grave,” said Hector, “ I have done what I should have 
done; therefore answer me.” 

Coq-H^ron knew M. de Chavailles of old, and knew when 
it was necessary to act without long discourses. 

“Present!” said he, like a soldier who answers to his 
chief’s appeal. 

“ Is the casket in* a place of safety ? ” said Hector, 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


199 


“ lu a room of which I have the key.” 

“Are you quite sure of the iujikeeper? The good Flem- 
ing is a trading man.” 

“ Have no fear; the innkeeper is a rascal, but a cowardly 
rascal.” 

“That is some compensation,” said Paul Emile coldly. 

“I have shown him my sword in making him remark 
that it is of a beautiful shape and very pointed. He has 
understood me.” 

“ Then, lead me to it.” 

“ This casket seems to interest you very much,” sahl M. 
de Fourquevaux. 

“ Parbleu ! I have risked my life to get it.” 

“You are prodigal.” 

“My faith! I imagine that it will be for me Pandora’s 
box. And you know, hope is at the bottom.” 

“Eh! Monsieur, there is still something else,” said Coq- 
Hei-on pulling M. de Chavailles by the sleeve, who had 
started toward the inn. 

“ Something else ! And what then ? ” 

“A letter.” 

“ For me.” 

“ I do not think so.” 

“Then, what is it to me ? Leave your letter and run to 
the casket.” 

“A moment, pardon! You take the bit between your 
teeth as soon as one speaks to you. Can you not listen 
tranquill}’’ to people.” 

“Speak, but be brief.” 

“Do you recollect. Monsieur le Marquis, that merchant 
who appeared to resemble you.” 

“Yes.” 

“He just now came to the inn.” 

“And you have not arrested him.” 

“ How could I ? I was on foot, he was on horseback; he 
was in the road, I was up in my room.” 

“ You should have jumped down,” said Paul Emile. 

“He w'ould have left and I should have,.remained on the 
ground to look at him running away. I have staid behind 
the shutter and listened.” 

“ What have you heard ? ” 

“ He has called in the innkeeper, and said to him : ‘ Take 
this note and turn it over to a person who will come to seek 
it on the part of the Baron Klein. Here is a pistole for the 
trouble. You know me, therefore^ take care of what you 
do.’ Thereupon our host bowed an*d the mei’chant left. He 
was not thirty steps away when I reasoned thus: My mas- 
ter has passed a whole night in listening to the conversa- 
tion of those two merchants, one of which is a baron, after 
which he has delivered battle to Prince Eugene; great 
interests must be at stake then; but if the conversation 
of these merchants is curious, their correspondence can 


‘200 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


not be less so. Consequently, I am going to take the 
letter.^’ 

“ Marvelously reasoned,” said Paul Emile. 

“ The reasoning linished, I took a purse and a pistol and 
descended to the road. The innkeeper was still there turn- 
ing the letter between his lingers; I believe that he was 
even looking a little at its contents.” 

“ The curious fellow! ” said Paul Emile. 

“I went straight to him, purse in one hand and pistol in 
the other. ‘ Look well at these two objects,’ I said to him, 
‘and choose. In one there is gold, in the other lead. In 
exchange, I only ask you for that slip of paper which you 
are trying to hide in your pocket.’ The innkeeper hesi- 
tated.” 

“Ah bah!” 

“Oh! the emotion that a similar proposition always ex- 
cites. ” 

“ Well and good ! ” ■> 

“The purse was dancing before his eyes, and the gold 
shone through the silken meshes.” 

“Kejoicing spectacle! ” 

“The pistol opened its tube at the height of his nose. 
The innkeeper looked at the pistol, and took the purse.” 

“Intelligent man! ” 

“And handed me the letter to obey the conditions of the 
treaty.” 

“ He could not have pushed good faith further.” 

“ I think so myself.” 

“ Have you the letter ? ” asked M. de Chavailles. 

“ Here it is.” 

Hector took the letter from Coq-Heron’s hands, and 
opened it. It contained only these words : 

“ Maitre Pierre Simon, Kue de i’Arbalote, at the Boi 
David.” 

Hector turned the paper over, but found nothing more. 

“ This is not clear,” said Coq-Heron. 

“Yes, but it is short; and that is something,” replied 
Paul Emile. 

Hector suddenly struck his forehead like a man seized 
with a sudden idea. 

“Eh! ” said he, “that name of Pierre Simon, thatEue de 
I’Arbalete, that inn of Boi David, are not unknown to me. 
It is the address and name of the mysterious personage 
who wrote to me in Christine’s name.” 

“A raven who decorates himself with the plumes of the 
w’ren,” murmured M. dd Fourquevaux. 

I related that history to you ; do you recollect it ? ” 

“ Perfectly. Keep the letter, it will aid us to cut off the 
fellow’s ears.” 

“You are right,” said Hector, “I shall put the address in 
my pocket, and when I have a chance will pay a visit to 
Maitre Pierre Simon.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


201 


“ By-the-way,” he pursued after having made some steps 
iu the direction of the inn, “did you observe whether the 
merchant resembled the chevalier.” 

“ His voice was something like the chevalier’s, but not 
his face.” 

“ Let us go to the casket, and see if it speaks more clearly 
than the note.” 

When they came to the Broc cV Ardent, Paul Emile stop- 
ped M. de Chavailles, as the latter was about to mount the 
stairway. 

“I have a frightful griping here,” said he placing his 
hand upon his stomach ; “ I think it comes from the violent 
exercise which I have taken, thanks to you, since this 
morning. If you permit it, while you are gone up-stairs, I 
will make a tour of the kitchen, and on your return you 
will find breakfast ready.” 

“ Do so,” said Hector laughing. 

“ Oh ! we know that you esteem naught except immaterial 
things; — I have the weakness of showing some considera- 
tion for my body,— that rag, as philosophers say;— but 
rag thougli it is, it serves me, and I am satisfied with it.” 

Paul Emile carried off Coq-Heron, whose culinary talent 
he had on many occasions appreciated, and M. de Chavailles 
ran to the room where the precious casket was deposited. 
He burst the lock and opened the casket. It was half full 
of papers folded and surrounded by ribbons which formed 
separate bundles. M. de Chavailles took up one of them 
at random, untied it, and ran over the notes and letters 
which it contained. An incredible emotion seized him as 
he read. Some letters in a compartment of the casket 
afterward attracted Hector’s attention. He took possession 
of them and devoured them at a glance. As he passed from 
line to line he grew pale. When he finished he was livid. 
He closed the casket and locked it. 

The voice of M. de Fourquevaux forced him to leave the 
room. He turned the key and went down, 

“ Behold you at last! ” exclaimed Paul Emile, who was at 
the bottom of the stairway; “ I thought you would never 
finish.” 

“ My faith ! ” said Hector who sought to conceal his agita- 
tion, “I feared to disturb you in your important func- 
tions.” , 

“Bah! but tell me, are the papers which you have dis- 
covered very important.” 

“ Important enough! ” replied Hector with a careless air. 

“Well! if you have not lost your time, I have not wasted 
mine. Come quickly.” 

Paul Emile took Hector to a well furnished table, upon 
which smoked in company four stewed rabbits, an omelette, 
and some roasted pullets, flanked by four bottles. 

Behold the fruit of my toils,” said Paul ilmile, “I have 
pillaged the cellar and poultry yard, and the brave Coq- 


202 


THE BOYAL CHASE. 


Heron has charged himself with looking after the prisoners 
of war.” 

“Wine in Flanders! ” exclaimed M. de Chavailles at the 
sight of the bottles. 

“ It is the product of a miracle ; you see before you a sort 
of counterfeit of Moses.” 

“ Explain yourself,” said Hector sitting down. 

“The si)it was loaded, but the bottles were empty, and 
you know that, like nature, I abhor a vacuum. Eummag- 
ing around, I esi)ied a venerable cask which was extended 
in the corner of a wood-shed. ‘ It is some bad Louvain beer 
thoroughly spoiled,’ the inn-keeper who followed me said. 
‘Ah! it is bad beer,’ said I, ‘well! lam going to disem- 
barrass you of it.’ I drew my sword, I struck the cask, and 
prodigious wonder, wine came out of it.” 

“It is certain that the ring of prophets could not have 
done better.” 

“ The innkeeper, dazzled, trembled in all his limbs. ‘Be 
not afraid and thank me,’ I said to him, ‘I have changed 
your beer into wine, and I take four bottles of it for my 
trouble.” 

“ He has consented ? ” 

“Parbleu! And, in return, I have consented to pay him 
for his poultry. This proceeding has touched him, and, 
since he has seen some gold pieces that bear our sovereign’s 
effigy, he is devoted to me.” 

While M. de Fourquevaux was talking and eating. Hector 
was scribbling some words on the corner of the table. 
When he had finished, he called Coq -Heron. 

Take this, mount your horse and go to St. Wast,” said 
he. “You will ask for M. de Lobregat and hand him this 
letter.” 

“And then ? ” said Coq-H4ron. 

“ Is it another expedition ? ” exclaimed Paul Emile. 

“Perhaps.” 

Coq-Heron wished to reason. Hector offered to carrv the 
letter himself, and the soldier left immediately. When 
through eating, M. de Fourquevaux extended himself on 
the grass. 

“Is this expedition serious ? ” said he. 

“ Very serious.” 

“So much the better,” replied M. de Fourquevaux rub- 
bing his hands. 

“ Do you consent to take part in it ? ” 

“You know w’ell I will follow you everywhere, even were 
it to the bottom of hell.” 

“Oh! I do not intend to go so far.” 

“ Then, tell me where you count on going.” 

“ To Versailles.” 

“To Versailles! ” repeated Paul fimile, who rose up. 

“ And I set out to-day even.” 


THE no YA L CHASE. 


‘203 


“You have then re(‘eived the authorization to do so this 
nij?ht.” 

“No.” 

M. do Fourquevaux looked M. de Chavailles in the face. 

“You are not a man,” said he, “to take such a part 
without g]-ave motives. What takes you to Versailles ? 
My friendship makes it a duty for me to ask you.” 

“Something that makes it urgent for me to leave at 
once.” 

“ I divine! ” exclaimed Paul Emile striking his forehead : 
“ it is the casket.” 

“Exactly.” 

“ But can you not send it ? ” 

“ Part with it ? But I would not confide it to Coq -Heron 
himself.” 

“ Just now you spoke of it with such a careless air.” 

“Ah! .I’list now I had not dined, and grave resolutions 
are not formed when one is hungry.” 

“ That is just. Then this casket contains papers of great 
importance ? ” 

“So important, that I am responsible for it before God. 
I would only part with it when dead.” 

“If that is the case, I am yours.” 

, “Come then! ” exclaimed M. de Chavailles pressing Paul 
Emile’s hand, “ you will perhaps see strange things.” 

Coq-Heron, who had ieft at a gidlop, returned at a gallop. 

“ M. de Lobregat has received the letier,” said he ; “he 
has told me that he would do what you asked of him, and 
that you could count on him.” 

“Well! now saddle our horses; I am going to get the 
casket.” 

Hector mounted to his room, rolled up the casket in his 
cloak, fastened it to the croup of his horse and leaped into 
the saddle. 

“ Now,” said he, “to Versailles! ” 

Four days after M. de Chavailles knocked at the door of 
the little entresol which M. de Iliparfonds occupied in the 
j)alace of Louis XIV. The Luke threw himself into his 
arms on perceiving him and conducted him to a remote 
cabinet. As to M. de Fourquevaux, he had separated from 
Hector in order to pay a visit to Cydalise. 

“What brings you back?” said M. de Eiparfonds to 
Hector, when they were seated in front of each other with 
all doors closed. 

“ Before answering 5mu, let me ask you how my affairs 
here are going; your letters have been very explicit, but 
perhaps you dared not tell me all the truth.” 

M. de ilij)arfonds shook his head. 

“Your affairs are in a bad state; you must have in the 
shadow an implacable and all-powerful enemy.” 

“ I suspected it.” 

“All my efforts to discover him have been fruitless. It 


204 


THi: unVAt. it ASK. 

is he, nndoubteflly, who has caused you to leave, it is he 
who has kept yon in Flanders, it is he who has prejudiced 
the King and ministerst.” 

“ What! Louis XIV. also ? ” 

“ terrible word has been pronounced, a w’ord capable 
of destroying men more powerful than you.” 

“What word?” 

“ They say you are a Jansenuis.” 

“I! But Jansenuis and liis doctrine are as completely 
unknown to me as the Grand Loura! ” 

“Eh! what matters it whether you are or not, they say 
that you are, and that suffices.” 

“ Well, I shall speak to tlie King.” 

M. de Eiparfonds pressed Hector’s arm. 

“ And liow will you see him ? ” said he. “ Know you not 
that only those who have captial affairs to discuss can 
secure a private audience with him ? ” 

“It is precisely one of those affairs wdiich brings me back 
to Versailles.” 

Hector opened the casket wdrich he had placed on a piece 
of furniture on entering and took from it a package of 
papers. 

“ There is inside here a secret of state,” said he in a grave 
voice, “ a secret so formidable that I am afraid to know it ; 
pardon me then for not saying to you : Take and lead ; but 
in my conscience, I believe that the King alone ought to 
know it.” 

“'You make me tremble! ” said the Duke; “ these secrets 
are dangerous to whomsoever know them ; and it might be 
desirable that this casket should not have fallen into your 
power.” 

“I have taken it in Prince Eugene’s tent, at St. Wast; it 
has cost me the half of my company; I will draw from it 
either life or death.” 

“Therefore your irrevocable project is to speak to the 
King?” 

“ To-morrow, if I can.” 

“It is a part full of perils. The King is prejudiced 
against you; he does not expect your return, and he does 
not like to bo obliged to pass into his cabinet.” 

“ I will brave everything.” 

“ You are decided on it ? ” 

^ Altogether.” 

“ Then let me give you a piece of advice; if you succeed 
in obtaining a conversation with the King, speak to liim 
firmly; frankness, force, clearness, warmth of language do 
not displease him. He will not interrupt you— it is not one 
of his habits. Lay the fact clearly before him ; dQinonsti’ate 
to him, with all the respect one owes a crowned head, the 
attachment which you bear to his person. Timidity, em- 
barrassment, hesitation, would ruin you; but too’much 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 205 

audacity, too much passion would have the same result. 
You must take a middle course.” 

“ I will try, and God will inspire me.” 

“To-morrow then! But take care and weigh well your 
w'ords ; it means either fortune or exile for you.” 


CHAPTEE XXX. 

ALL OR NOTHING. 

At dawn the next day. Hector Jumped out of his bed; 
he had not slept during the whole night. A thousand 
thoughts had kept him awake. He felt that he was going 
to undertake a part on which his fate depended, if the 
King should listen to him, if he should permit him to so- 
journ at Versailles, he might yet hope and consecrate all 
his cares to pursuing the traces of Christine. But if Louis 
XIV., unhappily prejudiced, should refuse to hear him and 
forced him to return to the army, the only thing left for 
him to do was to throw himself before a battery and meet 
death. Hector left at sunrise and plunged into the park. 
The vast lawns, the majestic avenues, the profound quin- 
cunxes were deserted : no women sweeping with the corners 
of their satin dresses the marble slabs, no courtiers stray- 
ing over the sand of the terraces; before the gaping doors, 
some soldiers on guard, musketeers with guns upon their 
shoulders, others seated dreamily around the perrons. The 
water of the cascades fell in the sonorous basins, and the 
Joyous rays of the morning danced upon the shining mirror 
of the fish-ponds. A crowd of gods and goddesses, spread 
over the vast extent of the gardens, contrasted the white- 
ness of the marble with the green of the groves ; it was the 
hour when solitude seems to wander in the woods and 
causes silence to be born under the flight of its invincible 
feet. The freshness of the dawn and the calm of these 
places returned a little peace to the troubled mind of M. de 
Chavailles. He stopped on the brink of a fountain whose 
fugitive waves escaped from the hollow of a rock and dis- 
appeared bounding upon the gravel. The water seemed to 
sleep in the hollow of the rock, limpid as crystal, then, sud- 
denly overflowing the sides of the cascade, it dashed with 
a thousand murmurings through the grass and pebbles to 
seek the unknown shores which attracted it. 

When Hector returned to the chateau he was firmly re- 
solved to brave everything, even were he certain to jiass 
from the King’s cabinet to the Bastille. It was ordinarily 
on leaving the mass and entering Madame de ^laintenon’s 
room, that Louis XIV. gave audience to the seigneurs who 
solicited it. It was only a question of coming to the King 
and claiming the honor of conversing with him privately. 
It was very simifle in itself, but Louis XIV. had on these 


206 


THE ROYAL CEASE. 


occasions a fashion of looking at people which embarrassed 
the most audacious, and a ver}'’ pressing motive was neces- 
sary for one to dare to take this license. The hour come, 
de Chavaiiles i>laced himself at the entrance to the 
j)rivato apartments of the King; he was in company with 
M. de Riparfonds and M. de Eourquevaux. He had been 
away from court so long that many courtiers did not recog- 
nize him ; as to those who did recognize him, tiie^’ appeared 
not to do so, knowing well that M. de Chavaiiles had fallen 
into disgrace. The heart of the young captain beat strongly, 
and he was slightly pale. Finally the King was seen to 
appear. He advanced gravely, replying to all the rever- 
ences of the crowd of courtiers and stopping sometimes to 
listen to the gentlemen who wished to speak to him. His 
countenance showed age, but he preserved in his decline 
the firm appearance, the natural maje.sty and the noble 
grace of his youthful years. 

Hector looked at the King and seemed to count the steps 
which still separated him from the door of his cabinet. 

M. de Riparfonds silently pressed Hector’s hand, and the 
King appeared before them. 

“ Sire,” said M. de Chavaiiles bowing, “ will Your Majesty 
deign to accord to one of your most devoted subjects the 
honor of a conversation ? ” 

The King looked closely at the Marquis and recognized 
him. M. de Fourquevaux, who had recoiled discreetly, but 
who had not lost sight of the two interlocutors, nudged 
M. de Riparfonds with his elbow. 

“ Do you not prefer cannon balls to looks like those ? ” 

“You wish to speak to me, Monsieur ? ” said the King in 
a clear voice. 

“ Y"es, sire,” replied Hector. 

“ Do so. Monsieur, I am listening to you.” 

“ What I have to say to Your Majesty demands the 
secrecy of a private conversation,” said Hector lirmly. 

The King heisitated and tapped the parquet with tlieend 
of his (*ane. A dee]T silence reigned disturbed only by 
these strokes. Hector’s eyes did not leave the King. 

“ Well, Monsieur, follow me then! ” replied Louis XIY., 
comiuered by this ap))eal. 

He passed first into his cabinet, which M. de Chavailk'S 
entered after him. It often hapiiened, on occasions like 
tln^se, that the door remained open, and that the courtieis 
dis]iersed in the gallery, if they could not hear, at least 
they could see. Hector remark('d that this door had not 
been closed after the jiassage of tlie King. He dared say to 
the King that the least [>reeauti(m was not useless Olathe 
present occasion, and that he begged him to have the door 
closed. Louis XTV. threw upon IM. de Cliavailles a keen 
look, and without replying called a servant, wTio closed the 
door. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


207 


“We are aJone as you have desired to be, Monsieur; 
speak,” said the King. 

He was standing with his two hands supported on his 
cane and with his eyes turned to Hector. 

“Sire,” said M. de Ciuivailles, “ I have quitted the army 
of Flanders without orders ; I have quitted it without ask- 
ing the authorization to do so either from the generai-in- 
chief or the minister.” 

“It is a grave infraction of military rules, and if you are 
severely punished, you will have merited it. Monsieur; is it 
to inform me of your faults that you have constrained me 
to pass into this cabinet ? ” said the King. 

“ An occasion presented itself to devote myself to Your 
Majesty’s service ; I have taken counsel only of my zeal and 
have left.” , 

“ Was it necessary for you yourself to leave ? ” 

“ If it were only a question of myself, Sire, I would have 
remained; for a long time I have sacrificed my life, and 
the care even of piercing the causes which have kept me 
removed from court would not have influenced me to quit 
the frontiers threatened by Your Majesty’s enemies. But 
duty goes before obedience ; it has seemed to me that my 
presence would be useful at Versailles, and, without hesi- 
tating, I have hastened to come.” 

“ Useful to whom, Monsieur ? ” 

The question was precise; Hector might ruin himself in 
replying to it; he might ruin himself in evading it; he 
resolutely took his part, and dropping on one knee, he said : 

“To you. Sire!” - 

The King, in spite of his habitual calm, trembled. 

“ To me! ” said he looking at the audacious gentleman. 

“ To you. Sire ! ” repeated M. de Chavailles, “ and if it is a 
crime to have obeyed too promptly the impulse of my heart, 
you will still have the power to punish me. I thought it 
was necessary to first fly where my devotion called me and 
afterward submit to all the consequences of my temerity\” 

The King kept silence for some time, and with his eyes 
fixed on those of Hector, as if he iho'.ight to read in the 
depth of his heart; then, making a sign with his hand, he 
said : 

“Rise up. Monsieur, when you sliall h;ive spoken, I will 
know whether to punish or to thank you.” 

“ Come,” thought Hector, “ I have leaped tlie first ditch 
without stumbling! it is a good augury.” 

“You said,” resumed the Kiiig when Hector was on his 
feet again, “that you have abandoned the army to serve 
me ? ” 

“Yes, sire; but’, as the Parthians foi’meiiy did, before 
heaving I have struck a last blow which Prince Eugene will 
leeollect.” 

The King’s eyes sparkled at the name of Pi ince Eugene. 
Louis XIV. could not forget that he had refused to give a 


208 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


regiment to the son of the Cointesse de Soissons when he had 
lavished, them on so man}" other officers. This refusal had 
thrown Prince Eugene into the ranks of the enemy, and as 
the primal cause of it was the King, the King did not 
pardon it in the great captain. Now, after Prince William 
of Orange, this captain was the most formidable enemy 
Louis XIV. had ever encountered. 

“Ah?” said he, “you have had an affair with Prince 
Eugene ? ” 

“ I have done better than that ; I have beaten him.” 

“ And you come to bring me news of it ? ” 

“No, sire; the duty of a soldier is to light. Let others 
speak for him if they wish ; besides, it is not a quesi ion of a 
battle, but of a skirmish in which several hundred horse- 
men have been engaged.” 

Louis the Fourteenth’s countenance grew somber. 

“And I would not have disturbed Your Majesty for so 
small a thing,” Hector hastened to add, “ if fortune and my 
sword had not put me in possession of a casket which 
Prince Eugene would ransom at the price of an army.” 

“What is there then in the casket? ’’the king asked 
quickly. 

“ Papers, sire, which I have wished to turn over to Your 
Majesty alone.” 

Hector slipped his hand into a pocket of his coat, and 
drew from it a package of letters which he placed upon a 
piece of furniture. 

“ Behold them, sire ; I have not lost an hour, and with- 
out wiping away the dust and blood of combat, no sooner 
were they in my grasp, than I flew stiaight to Versailles.” 

The King, moved, broke the bauds which surrounded the 
letters, took some of them, and opened them. The first 
which he ran over escaped from his hands. The same emo- 
tion which had taken possession of Hector on reading 
these papers agitated the King more keenly still. 

“Here are some others written in cyphers,” said Hector, 
presenting new letters to the King. 

The King called a servant, sent for a secretary, and or- 
dered the grilles of the Imperial correspondence to be 
brought to him. When he had them, he ap[)lied one or two 
of them, turn by turn, upon the paper. 

“I hold the key to them ! ” said he. 

He read silently, and placed the letter upon a table; he 
took up another and so on in succession to the last. While 
he was reading. Hector, immovable, followed with his eyes 
the divers movements which succeeded each other upon the 
countenance of the King; lie saw there, turn by turn, in- 
dignation, astonishment, horror, fright, and anger. After 
he had become acquainted with tlie entire package, Louis 
XIV. turned to M. do Chavailles. 

“ You haVe read those letters, Monsieur ? ” said he. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


209 


“ All; with the exception of those written in cypher,” re- 
plied Hector. 

“Are you the only one who has read them ? ” continued 
the King. 

“Yes, sire.” 

“ You swear it ? ” 

“ I swear it.” 

“These secrets are heavy to carry,” added the King, 
“nevertheless you are a gentleman and I will confide myself 
to your honor. Raise your hand. Monsieur, and swear that 
you will never reveal anything of what you have read, 
neither verbally, nor by writing, nor in any manner what- 
soever.” 

Hector raised his naked hand and took in a firm voice the 
oath which the King demanded of him. 

“ I receive your oath. Monsieur, and your honor of a sol- 
dier is a sufficient guarantee for it,” said Louis XIV. 

The King called a second time, had a great fire lighted in 
the chimney, dismissed the servant and threw the package 
of letters in the midst of the flames. 

“ Wdiat! ” exclaimed M. de Chavailles who was no longer 
master of his emotion, “you burn thcbe proofs of the most 
infernal machinations! ” 

“ I burn them. Monsieur,” said he; “ yes, I burn them 
because the royal majesty must not be soiled. I respect it 
in myself, I will respect it in the house of Austria.” 

Tliese words and the grand air by which they were ac- 
companied had a great effect on Hector. Louis XIV. ap- 
peared to him grander tlian he had ever seen him, aisd he 
understood, while listening to him, the influence which he 
had exercised over all the century. The last pages were 
flaming in the fire-place, when the King again fixed his 
eyes on Hector. 

“ You have conducted yourself like a brave soldier and 
loyal gentleman,” said he ; ‘‘ I thank you for it. Monsieur.” 

]\[. de Chavailles bowed. 

“ Have you some favor to ask of me ? Speak, I grant it,” 
continued the King. 

“ The honor of having served Your Majesty suffices for 
my recompense ; but since you. deign to offer me a favor 
which I would never have dared to claim, permit me. Sire, 
to ask of you the favor of remaining at Versailles.” 

“ Is that all. Monsieur ? ” 

“All! ” 

“ Your modesty equals your courage. Monsieur. Remain 
at our court, and as long as you please.” 

“I will remain,” exclaimed Hector with animation, “ till 
the day on which I have proved to Your Majesty that I am 
Jiot a man to merit the infamous treatment which has been 
inflicted on me, and the forgetfulm’ss which has enveloped 
me for so many long years.” 

14 


210 


THE EOYAL ( JIASE. 

“ Ah! Monsieur, why are you a JansenuisL ? ” rei>iieu ti e 
King, carried away by Hector’s warmth of language. 

‘‘ If I were a Jansennist, I would not deny it, were it at the 
peril of my life; but, before God, who hears me, I swear, 
sire, that never have either my heart or my mind been oc- 
cupied with a doctrine wliich I do not know. I was born a 
Catholic, and if death luid struck me on the battle-field, I 
would have rendered up my soul to God wliile kissing the 
cross of my sword. I adore, I believe, and beyond that I 
know nothing.” 

M. de Chavailles’ extraordinary animation, the force of 
his language, and his h’ank accent pleased the King. 

“ It is well! Monsieur, it is well ; I like to see such senti- 
ments in the nobility of France.” 

“My God, my King and my country, behold my law,” 
said Hector. 

“ It is that of every good gentleman ; but if you have 
done your duty. Monsieur, I have not yet done mine. I 
must recompense you for your worthy and courageous con- 
duct.” 

“ Sire ! ” 

“ A soldier who acts as you do and who thinks as well, is 
not made toj’emain a captain, — for that, I believe, is the 
grade you hold ? ” 

“Yes, sire.” 

“ And since five years ? ” 

“ Yes, sire.” 

“ Well, Monsieur de Chavailles, you are a colonel.” 

Hector wished to throw himself at the King’s feet, but 
the King prevented his doing so. 

“ Go, Monsieur, do not thank me,” said Louis XIV. ; “ it 
is your recompense, you merit it.” 

Hector saluted and slowly went out. MM. de Eiparfonds 
and de Fourquevaux were were waiting for him in the gal- 
lery. Hector made them a sign to follow him, and all three 
descended to the terrace of the chateau. While they were 
traversing the apartments, the crowd of courtiers, "aston- 
ished at such a long tcte-a-tete with a king who was not lav- 
ish of them, looked at M. de Chavailles with a curious air 
of which shone a grain of jealousy. M. de Eiparfonds ob- 
served his cousin h’om the'corner of his eye and said noth- 
ing.” 

“ Yonr countenance is indiscreet,” exclaimed M. de Four- 
queva-ux, when they found themselves in a retired phice ; 
“ it speaks, it radiates! ” 

“Explain yourself! I am dying with impatience,” said 
M. de Eiparfonds, in his turn. 

“ I have succeded beyond all my hopes,” M. de Chavail- 
les finally said. 

“Ah! let me embrace you!” exclaimecr the Duke, such 
denly forgetting all his gravity ; “you cannot imagine what 
an enormous weight you lift from my heart, During your 


TEE ROYAL CEASE. 


m 


■long conversation with the King, I dieamed only of the 
Bastille.” 

“I remain at Versailles and I am a colonel ” said Hector, 
who pressed the hands of his two friends. 

Paul Emile opened wide his eyes. 

“ Colonel! ” he exclaimed, “ you are a sorcerer then! ” 

Hector related to them in detail the incidents of his con- 
versation with Louis XIV., when he arrived at the moment 
when the King had thrown the papers in the fire which 
Hector had obtained in the tent of Prince Eugene, M. do 
Fourquevaux could no longer contain his enthusiam. 

“Parbleu! he is a great king! He has his little defects, 
but I know of no one who pushes higher the sentiment of 
majesty and the -respect of the royal dignity,” he ex- 
claimed. 

“ My dear cousin,” M. de Kiparfonds said in his turn, 
after M. de Chavailles had arrived at the end of his narra- 
tive, “if you have taken from the mind of the King that 
thought that you were a Jansenuist, his favor is acquired to 
you, and you can aspire to anything.” 

•“ I aspire only to Christine,” said Hector. 

“Come,” said Paul Emile, “let us agree on our affairs; 
you leave your company to M. de Lobregat and Flanders to 
M. de Villars. The rainy season is coming on and the cam- 
paign is about over. We will live at Versailles where I in- 
tend to constrain you to amuse yourself a little. We shall 
be at all the suppers, at all the hunts, at all the mascarades,' 
at all the balls, at all the plays. The world will commence 
for us at Versailles and end at Paris ; our equator will be 
Marly. We will play comedy at Madame du Maine’s and 
lansquenet at the Dauphiness’; I will present .you to the 
maids of honor of my acquaintance, and if M. de Kipar- 
fonds is not too misanthropical, we will admit him into our 
company.” 

The Duke shrugged his shoulders. 

“ To speak frankly,” continued Paul Emile without pay- 
ing any attention to his friend’s movement, “ I was not 
pleased with Louis XIV ; I bore him a grudge for having 
forgotten you so long a time; but, since he has named you 
colonel, I pardon him ; to-morrow I will go and impart this 
good news to Cydalise and communicate to her our pro- 
jects. She will aid us to put them into practice. She has 
not her equal for nocturnal enterprises and gallant expedi- 
tions.” 

“ Are you mad ? ” exclaimed the Duke, half laughing, 
half vexed ; “ you speak of gallant expeditious to a man 
who is in love ! ” 

“ Would it be better to speak of them to an anchorite ? ” 
replied Paul Hmile. “ It is precisely because he is in love 
that I speak to him of them. Love is cured by love. 
Similia, simili bus cur antin', some one has said.” 

This beautiful citation put an end to the conversation. 


THK ROYAL CITASE. 


The three gentlemen regained the ehatean where play wa^j 
being particii)ated in by a bi'iHiant company and jniueesses 
of the blood. The long audience which M. de Chavailles 
had obtained of the King, had been noised about; it was 
the event of the day, and was spoken of everywhere. The 
king had left his cabinet with a serene countenance; all 
eyes had applied themselves to the task of reading his 
physiognomy, and the affable air it wore was an indication 
that M. de Chavailles stood well with the King. Nothing of 
that which had taken ])lace at this audience had transpired, 
and the eager curiosity of the courtiers could understand 
nothing of the sudden appearance of a man who was 
thought to be forever interred in Flanders, But this curi- 
osity was changed into admiration when the King, in the 
midst of a circle of grand seigneurs, had expressed him- 
self with regard to the new colonel in terms which left no 
doubt as to the esteem in which he held him. This public 
demonstration said that the conversation in the cabinet had 
made a happy impression upon the mind of the King, 
and as the King’s opinion was at court the mover of all 
opinions, M, de Chavailles was suddenly found to be one-of 
the most accomplished cavjdiers in the Kingdom. Scarcely 
had he made some steps in the apartment, when, from all 
sides, the courtiers hastened to address their felicitations to 
him. Hector could not at first explain the reason of this 
sudden friendship succeeding without transition to his iso- 
lation ; but he was no longer as he was when he came to the 
court for the first time, and he received the advances of all 
the seigneurs with a cold politeness, which kept the most 
expansive at a distance. 

“ The King has spoken,” 1\[. de Eiparfonds said to him. 

Hector smiled and passed on. In one of the corners of 
the saloon a number of young courtiers were grouped 
around a table presided over by the Duchess of Burgundy. 
The greatest ladies were talking with her. The coquettish 
noise of laughter w'as mixed with the sound of the gold 
pieces rolling upon the velvet carpet. AU the time was not 
so taken up by play as not to leave a little for gallantry. 
Many cavaliers were seen leaning over the shoulders of 
ladies of the court who w'ere sheltered by their fans; ])Ut 
when the King passing by looked at these groups which 
youth and love animated with their double intoxication, all 
eyes were veiled and their souls remained iced like the 
limpid waters of a spring suddenly struck by a wfinter wind. 
As M. de Chavailles approached the radiant circle pressing 
around the Dauphiness, the door of the gallery opened, and 
the Duchess de Berry entered. It was the first time that 
M. de Chavailles saw the young daughter of the Duke of 
Orleans, quite recently married to the grandson of the 
King. The Duchess de Berry was then in all the splendor 
of youth. She had a natural grace, and intelligence 
sparkled in her eyes. She was still almost a child, but a 


THE JlOYAL ClfASE. 


child who had all the elegance of a woman. She pleased, 
she moved, she astonished. Hector found himself face to 
face with her when she appeared in the gallery, followed by 
the ladies of her household. He moved aside two or three 
steps and saluted her. She turned her head toward him, 
looked at him, bowed with an extreme grace, said some 
words to a lady who had approached her, looked at him 
anew and passed on. M. de Iliparfonds took his cousin by 
the arm, conducted him to the place where the Princess was 
seated, and presented him to her. 

“My father’s friend shall be mine,” said she accompany- 
ing these words with a look which appeared to M. de 
Chavailles more brilliant than a flame of fire. 

“You transport me to the summit of my desires, and no 
longer leave me anything to wish for, Madame,” he re- 
plied. 

“No longer anything?” said she with a charming 
smile; “ are you quite sure of it, and do you know a soul 
who wishes for nothing ? ” 

“I know some who wish for that which they can not ob- 
tain, and it is then as if they did not wish.” 

“ I have always thought that a proud soul and one worthy 
of high fortune could conquer all obstacles no matter what 
they were.” 

“All ? ” replied Hector with an air of doubt. 

“All,” repeated the young Princess in a keen and sonor- 
ous voice. 

A Princess of the House of Lorraine came to salute the 
Duchess de Berry, and the conversation was broken off. 
These words, rapidly exchanged, had produced upon Hec- 
tor an impression which he vainly tried to account for. It 
was not curiosity, it was something more ; he felt attracted 
toward the Duchess de Berry; and, at the same time, he ex- 
perienced a kind of repulsion. A serious conversation with 
some officers, who had taken part in the war in Flanders, 
turned aside his thoughts from that subject. An hour after, 
accident brought Hector again into the presence of the 
Duchess de Berry as she was rising up ; in doing so, she let 
fa .l lier fan upon the floor. Hector stooped down and picked 
it up. She smiled on receiving it from his hands, thanked 
him and slowly moved away with her eyes turned toward 
him. 


CHAPTEB XXXI. 

THE GLASS OF WATER. 

Assured of remaining a long time at Versailles, Hector 
made arrangements to renew his best connections broken 
off by the length of his absence. He spoke then to M. de 
Biparfonds of his desire to go to the Palais Boyal to visit 
the Duke of Orleans. 


214 


THE EOYAL CHASE. 


“You arjti(!ipate my propositioD,” M. de Eiparfonds re- 
plied to him ; “ if you wish, we shall start to-day ; your zeal, 
1 am certain, will please the Prince, by proving to him how 
much you value his friendship.” 

This conversation took place the daj’’ after that on which 
M. de Chavailles had been presented to the Duchess de 
Berry. The two gentlemen left almost immediately for 
Paris, and had themselves comlucted to the Duke of 
Orleans. The welcome of the Prince was all that M. de 
Chavailles could desire. The Prince was in a cabinet in 
which he was accustomed to shut himself up when he wished 
to work, and where only his intimate friends had the right 
to penetrate. A large table, covered with books took up 
half of this cabinet, whose sides were concealed by a 
quantity of shelves furnished with rare and i>recious books. 
M. de Riparfonds picked . up from the table the volume 
which the Duke of Orleans had just thrown down, and 
opened it. He turned over its leaves carelessly, made a dis- 
dainful mouth, shrugged his shoulders lightly, and laid the 
volume down. 

“ Behold a fine occupation ! ” said he. 

The Duke of Orleans, who had not lost a single one of M. 
de Riparfonds’ movements, smiled, picked up the book and 
carefully placed it in a particular case which was just above 
the table. 

“ Will your mind always be a prey to nonsense ? ” said M. 
de Riparfonds. 

“ Nonsense if you please, but nonsense which is not so 
foolish,” replied the Prince, “you are holding there a vol- 
ume of Arnaud de Yilleneuve.” 

“ I do not know this Arnaud de Villeneuve, whom you 
seem to regard as a marvelous genius, but 1 would will- 
ingly w^ager that all his writings are a collection of exti ava- 
gances and aberrations. Would you believe,” added M. de 
Riparfonds addressing himself to M. de Chavailles, “that 
this valiant and learned prince passes the best part of his 
time in studying the occult sciences, and that his chief de- 
sire is to see the devil ? There are no foolish experiments 
which he does not attempt, no Satanic formulas which he 
does not learn ; and, if he seems dreamy to you, be assured 
that he is revolving in his head some project of a nocturnal 
evocation. Propose to him to visit Beelzebub and he will 
follow’ you to the end of the world.” 

Hector could not repress a smile and turned toward the 
Prince, wTio w’as very tranquilly listening to M. de Ripar- 
fonds. 

“ Nevertheless I wTll convert you,” said the Prince, “and 
not later than this evening.” 

“ With wTiat demon have you a rendezvous ? ” 

“ With none, unless Madame d’Argenton is one.” 

“ You are going to take me to Madame d’Argenton’s 
then ? ” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


215 


“lu a moment, if yon please.” 

The Prince had a caniage prepared and conducted MM. 
de Riparfonds and de Chavailles to Madame d’Argenton’s, 
who showed herself delighted to see again her former 
friends. There was no one at her house except a little girl 
of seven or eight years of age who was playing in one cor- 
ner. Guy looked over the rocfhi. 

“ Where then is the sorcerer ? ” said he. 

“Do not grow impatient, he will come,” replied the 
Countess. 

At this moment some one rapped lightly at the door, and 
a man entered. 

“ It is he,” whispered the Countess to Hector. 

All looks were fixed upon the newcomer, a man of about 
fifty years of age. He saluted the compan.y with a perfect 
grace, and made the little girl come forward whom he took 
between his knees. The four persons who were in the room 
watched him attentively. The little girl replied smilingly 
to all the questions that the sorcerer asked her, and while 
she was talking, he ran his fingers through her hair, 
touched her arms, her shoulders, her hands, like a musician 
wl;o caresses the keys of a piano. 

“ The girl is ready, she will see,” said the sorcerer. 

A table was drawn up in the middle of the apartment and 
a glass of water placed upon it. The sorcerer led the little 
girl to the table, took up the glass, dipped his finger in it, 
shook it for the space of a second, poured into it a drop of 
liquor contained in a small flask which caused the water to 
simmer without its limpidity being troubled. The four 
spectators of this scene had followed all its incidents* with- 
out saying a word. When, the water had regained its first 
immobility, the sorcerer passed his hand over the eyes of 
the little girl, who was very paid and of a singular gravity. 

“When you are questioned, you will look in this glass,” 
said he, “and you will tell what you see without omitting 
anything.” 

“ Yes,” replied the child. 

“Madame and you, gentlemen, can question her now,” 
said the sorcerer. 

“ Does she read in the future or does she see only in the 
past ? ” asked M. de Riparfonds with an incredulous air. 

“The past, the present, and the future are all one to her,” 
replied the sorcerer. 

Silence reigned for awhile, when the Duke of Orleans ap- 
proached the table and said : 

“What will take place at the King’s death and who will 
be present with him ? ” 

“I see him,” said she, “and he is in his bed.” 

“Where? ” asked Madame d’Argenton. 

“ At Versailles.” 

The little girl had never been to Versailles, and yet \vh< ii 
the Duke of Orleans interrogated her as to the arrangement 


I 


21G 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


of the rooms, the character of the furniture, she gave cor- 
rect and explicit answers. The Due de Riparfonds could 
uot repress a gesture of astonishment. The little girl with 
eyes fixed upon the glass of water, replied clearly and with- 
out hesitation. 

“ Who is with the King? ’\asked the Prince. 

“A great many persons.” ' 

“ Can you describe the persons whom you see ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, do so.” 

“What a spectacle! there is an old lady very properly 
dressed ; she is near the King at the head of the bed ; she 
seems to have been beautiful once.” 

“Madame de Maintenon,” said the Duke of Orleans. 

“ On the other side a beautiful person with a superb com- 
plexion and a large nose,” 

“ My wife! ” said the Duke. 

“ Close to her two smaller ladies.” 

She described their faces minutely and each one recog- 
nized the Duchesse de Bourbon and the Princess de Conti. 

“ Behold a singular figure,” continued the child ; “ it is a 
very ugly man, with a large perruque, and dressed in 
black.” 

“It is Fagon, the King’s physician,” said Madame d’- 
Argenton. 

“ And hold,” continued the little girl clapping her hands, 
“there is a seigneur in the corner of the room— but, I do 
not deceive myself— It is you. Monseigneur.” 

“I! ” cried the Duke. 

“ Yes,” replied the little girl, “you are talking with an- 
other seigneur who has a cold and reserved air, who listens 
to you and watches the lady near to the King.” 

“The Due du Maine! ” 

The little -girl described turn by turn, and witliout any 
mistake, the Comte de Toulouse with his children, and also 
the children of the Due du Maine and the Prince de Conti. 

“Ah! ” she exclaimed, “ there is a lady at the foot of the 
bed holding a child in her arms,"’ 

“ A child ? ” said the Duke of Orleans and M. de Eipar- 
fonds at the same time. 

“ This child has a blue sash; she holds the child toward 
the King who looks at the child with a sad air.” 

The eyes of the Duke of Orleans were turned toward those 
of M. de Eiparfonds, and both remained silent for some 
moments. 

“ But,” resumed the Duke, “do you see no one else in the 
room.” 

“No,” said the little girl seeking in the glass. 

“What! no one? Neither the Duke of Burgundy, nor 
the Dauphiuess, nor the Prince de Conde, nor the Due de 
Bourbon, nor the Prince de Conti?” said he describing 
each of these princes turn by turn. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


Sit 


“No,” repeated the little girl. 

A profound surprise was depicted upon the countenance 
of the Duke of Orleans. 

The sorcerer passed his hand over the forehead of the 
child who raised her eyes and looked around her with an 
astonished air. The attention of the whole assembly fixed 
upon her caused her to blush. She withdrew slightly con- 
fused, picked up a doll and disappeared behind a curtain. 

Meanwhile Hector had approached the sorcerer. 

“ Monsieur,” he said to him, “ if some one wished to con- 
sult you upon a matter which possesses the keenest interest 
for a certain gentleman, where could you be found ? ” 

“Rue St. Andre des Arcs; it is a small, red house, with 
the figure of a virgin over the door, and my name is Lom- 
ellini.” 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE RED HOUSE. 

As soon as M. de Chavailles could escape from Versailles 
without awakening the suspicions of M. de Riparfonds, to 
whom he had not wished to confide anything of his project, 
he left for Paris with the intention of paying a visit to the 
house in the Rue St. Andre des Arcs. Hector had not made 
fifty steps in the street, when he recognized the red house. 
As soon as Hector knocked the door was opened, and a tit- 
tle girl, w'ho appeared on the threshold, saluted him with a 
serious air. * 

“Signor Lomellini? ” said Hector. 

“Your name, Monsieur? ” replied the little girl. 

“ Hector de Chavailles.” 

“ Enter, Monsieur, my father was expecting you.” 

She conducted Hector to a garden at the end of which 
Signor Lomellini Wtis walking with a book in his hand. He 
closed his book on Hector’s approach and saluted him wuth 
an extreme courtesy. 

“I knew that you would come,” said he smilingly. 

“ Has your science caused you to foresee my coming ? ” 

“Oh! it did not take much sorcery to divine that you 
w’ould soon knock at my door! young and in love — ” 

' “In love! wdiat do you know about it? ” 

“ But is not one always in love at your age ? What object 
of so keeti an interest could occupy your mind, if it is not 
the thought of a mistt’ess.” 

“That is true,” said Hector, “and it is on the subject of 
that mistress that I come to consult you.” - 

“I place all my knowledge at your disposal.” 

Signor Lomellini passed into a summer-house which was 
in the middle of the garden and called the little girl w^ho 
was playing in the sunshine some steps away from them. 
She came to them immediately. 


THE EOYAL CHASE. 


‘218 


“Take Linda’s hands,” said the Italian addressing him- 
self to M. de Chavailles who was slightly pale. 

“ Well; now fix your looks upon hers and think with all 
your might of the woman you love.” 

“ I am always thinking of her,” replied Hector. 

“ Think of her as a Christian thinks of God when death 
is hovering over him.” 

Hector evoked all the sad yet sweet memories which lived 
in the depth of his heart. Presently a veil -was thrown be- 
tween the little girl and himself ; the phantom of his dreams 
took the place of the reality, and the smiling face of the 
child gave way to the radiant image of Mademoiselle de 
de Blettarius. While M. de Chavailles was contemplating 
that floating figure evoked by the power of his amorous 
imagination, the Italian softly passed his hands over the 
face of the little girl, who sighed, closed her eyes, opened 
them again, and then shut themr to open them no more. 
Signor Lomellini took her in his arms and laid her upon a 
little bank of turf which was in the summer-house; when 
she was immovable the Italian drew from his pocket the 
flask which M. de Chavailles had already seen, uncorked it 
and poured out some drops of the liquid which it contained 
upon the temples and lips of Linda. 

“ Do you see ? ” he then asked her. 

Linda agitated her lips, but without speaking. Lomellini 
reiterated his question in a stronger voice. 

“I see,” the child then said. 

“Does she live?” exclaimed M. de Chavailles, whose 
thofights were still upon Christine. 

The child was silent. Her countenance was pale and 
rigid. Fright seized Hector’s heart. 

“ My God ! ” said Hector pressing the sorcer’s hand, “ you 
who have the power to make her speak, interrogate her.” 

“ Does she live ? ” repeated the Italian. 

“ She lives,” the little girl finally said. 

“ What is she doing ? ” Lomellini asked. 

“ She is seated in a large room. The picture of a church 
is on the wall.” 

“ What kind of a dress does she wear ? ” 

“A dress of white serge.” 

“ Is she alone ? ” 

“ No ; a cavalier is close by.” 

“ How does this cavalier look ? ” 

“ Pale, with grey eyes, and a white hand ; he wears a black 
coat and carries a sword.” 

“Ask her,” exclaimed M. de Chavailles, “if this cavalier 
does not wear on the left hand an opal ring surrounded by 
rubies.” 

The Italian did as Hector asked and questioned her in the 
words which Hector used. 

“ Yes,” she replied. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


219 


“The Chevalier! ’’ exclaimed M. de Chavailles who had 
had occasion to remark that jewel on his enemy’s finger, 

“ What is she doing ? ” continued Signor Lomellini. 

“She is listening to this cavalier, with her head bowed 
upon her breast, hands joined and tears are falling from 
her eyes. The cavalier is reading a letter,” 

Hector rose up and left the summer-house. His heart was 
filled with an inexpressible emotion. He wandered around 
for some moments and then returned, 

“ Is that all ? ” Lomellini asked him, 

“One word. Can I know where is the house in which 
Christine lives ? ” 

“ It is an abbey,” said the child to whom the question 
had just been transmitted, “It is surrounded by woods. 
There is singing and the bell rings.” 

“Tell me where this convent is ?” exclaimed Hector. 

Lomellini shook his head. 

“ She can not answer you,” said he. 

“ Try her anywhow.” 

Lomellini obeyed M. de Chavailles’ desire, but Linda re- 
mained mute. 

“Well! ” said Hector, “it is a blank in her revalation, I 
will fill it up. Christine lives, my love will do the rest.” 

Lomellini accompanied Hector to the threshold of his 
house and watched him move away. 

“ That young man is in love; he is kind, valiant, lionest, 
and proud. He has many chances not to be happj^” he 
murmured. 

Scarcely had M. de Chavailles set foot in the Eue St. Andre 
des Arcs, when he directed his course toward the house of 
Cydalise, with wliom he had already had occasion to, take 
supper two or three times. He hoped to meet Paul Emile 
there. In fact that gentleman was at the comedienne’s. 
After Hector had saluted his friends, Cydalise exclaimed : 

“ How pale you are ; have you learnt some bad news.” 

“ No, it is quite the reverse,” said Hector. 

Hector sat down between Paul Emile and Cydalise, and 
related to them the strange scene at which he had just as- 
sisted at Lomellini’s. 

“So according to the description of the little girl Ma- 
demoiselle de Blettarius is at a convent,” said Cydalise. 

“ Yes,” replied Hector. 

“If she is in a convent,” said the comedienne after a 
moment’s reflection, “I undertake to discover her.” 

“All! and how will you go about it, if you please ? ” said 
Paul fimile. 

“ You are very curious, my dear Count.” 

“ Pshah ! it is only for a change.” 

“ Well! for a change, jou will iiermit me not to reply.” 

“I have always thought,” resumed M. de Fourquevaux 
addressing himself to Hector, “ that Cydalise had an en- 
igmatic character. As to myself, here is the counsel I give 


220 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


you ; saddle a good horse, and like a knight errant, set out 
to to discover your Yseulte. If you permit it, I will ac- 
company you and we shall not leave in the universe a single 
convent, a single abbey, a single monastery without visit- 
ing it from top to boltom. At nightfall, Coq-Heron will 
sound the horn like the esquires of the fairy tales, and we 
shall ask hospitality at the neighboring chateaux, in the 
in the fashion of Lancelot and Amadis of Gaul. Chatelains 
are very accommodating; we shall lack nothing, and per- 
iiaps we shall finish by espousing some empress on our jour- 
ney.” 

“ Before executing this final project,” said Cydalise, who 
had just placed her delicate hand on Hector’s arm, “will 
you give me some days ? ” 

“ It is a question of my happiness,” said Hector: “ think 
of that, Cydalise.” 

“It is because I do think of it that I ask you to place 
your fate in my hands,” said she. 

Hector hesitated for a moment, but already half-con- 
quered. 

“ Think, besides, that the journey which M. de Fourque- 
vaux proposes to you may last ten years.” 

“Well! so be it; but if you do not succeed ” 

“You will then be free to make the tour of the world.” 

“ Come,” said Paul £^mile, “ there are hours when Cydalise 
is more impenetrable than granite. She has her secrets, 
and prudence teaches us to respect them. It is said that 
Alcibiades never questioned Aspasia.” 

“Impertinent!” said the comedienne giving Paul Emile 
a tap on the cheek. 

As soon as the two cavaliers had gone. Cydalise wrote a 
note, rang, and handed it to a servant, saying: 

“Carry this promptly to M. d’ Argenson.” 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 
cydalise’s diplomacy. 

Toward evening, Cydalise secretly left her lodgings, 
mounted a fiacre and told the coachman to push on in the 
direction of the Grange-Bateliere. The ground which then 
extended between the Porto Montmartre and the Porte 
Gaillon was occupied by market gardens and small maisons 
de plaisance, where great lords came nightly to divert them- 
selves after the wearisome pomp and solemn fcTes of Ver- 
sailles. Pretty pavilions surrounded by green hedges or 
protected by high walls rose up here and theie on the 
border of the paths traced in the middle of the ga,rdens. 
Market gardeners, occupied in hoeing their cabbages, were 
accustomed to see descend at the doors of these pavilions 
beautiful ladies wearing hoods, who made only one jump 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


221 


from the carriage to the vestibule. The discreet doors of 
these rustic boudoirs turued mysteriously upon their hinges 
and were closed again without noise ; silk curtains glided 
upon their strings, and there was to be seen smiling at the 
windows the face of some Cliloe of the court conquered by 
a Daphis with a red heel. This vision lasted for a moment 
and then disappeared. Often, at nightfall, there was to be 
heard echoeing behind the blinds soft bursts of laughter 
which sounded like crystal, and the ring of glasses clashing 
together in the hands of invisible guests; beams of light 
passing through agitated curtains, lit up the tree tops and 
betrayed the charming secrets of an amorous fete. Then, 
if some rustic was passing by on the arm of his betrothed, 
he stopped, listened to those'half-stilled noises, and himself 
made gay by them, leaned toward his fiancee, surrounded 
her flexible waist with a caressing arm and joyously em- 
braced her, while the half-conquered coquette looked at the 
evening star. It was the country of nocturnal eclogues 
and of the pastorals of courtiers; eclogues which had for 
Myrtilis and Amaryllis Marquises of Versailles and sou- 
brettes of the Coined ie Francaise ; pastorals bathed in Cham- 
pagne and nourished on truffle pastries. Cydalise had the 
fiacre stopped at the door of a small pavilion built on the 
Italian style; she leaped lightly upon the steps and was 
received by a little negro armed with a flambeau, who con- 
ducted her to a salon ornamented with vases of flowers. 
This salon had two doors; one opened upon the garden, 
which was small and admirably arranged ; the other gave 
upon an octagon boudoir, carpeted with blue satin. Clumps 
of odoriferous shrubs and climbing plants, which extended 
along the w^alls and from tree to tree, gave to this garden 
the aspect of a miniature forest; the eyes saw only a 
horizon of foliage, and, upon the soil, between the carpets 
of fresh turf, little paths covered with fine sand, twisted 
about like undulating ribbons. Some statues in white 
marble, half concealed under waves of verdure, peopled this 
coquettish solitude and augmented its mysterious grace. A 
fountain sang in the middle of the garden and the nymph 
who ])rotected it, reclining upon a bed of moss, seemed, like 
to the fabled Narcissus, to admire her beautiful face 
in the transparence of the water which was diffused 
from the urn. The comedienne tightened her satin 
mantle around her shoulders which shivered under the ' 
lace and placed her little feet upon the sand of the paths. 
The bottom of lier dress lightly touched in passing the 
flowing shrubs, and the grass trampled under her steps sent 
back to her all the perfumes of the night. She walked for 
some time, her arms nonchalantly folded upon her breast, 
her pretty head lowered, and biting the carmine of her lips. 

A small bench was placed against the pedestal of a statue 
of Hebe; she stopped by it, glanced among the trees, 
through which the stars scintillated, supported her fore- 


222 


THE liOYAL CHASE. 


head upon the palm of her delicate hand and siglieu. 
What motive could Cydalise have for sighing ? The thing 
■was rare and marvelOus, and, certainly, if M. de Four- 
quevaux, had heard tliis sigh, he would not have failed to 
manifest his disai)pointment by a prodigious burst of 
laughter. The comedienne sometimes dreamed, but siglied 
so little! Her keenest disappointments — a ribbon badl}’ 
tied, a flower badly placed, an evening of a first represen- 
tation, the success of a rival— went so far as to veil with a 
light cloud her smiling forehead; but gayety came back so 
quickly that the eye of a lover alone could divine its fugi- 
tive passage. Cydalise remained immovable for some 
seconds, her eyes^lost in the heavens, in a profound ecstacy ; 
after which, passing her Angers among the long curls of her 
hair, she shook her head softly, 

“ Poor count! ” said she. 

A light silence followed this exclamation and soon she re- 
sumed aloud : 

“ Not so poor, after all! he knows nothing of it, and what 
one does not know does not exist.” 

This philosophic reflection suddenly appeased her 
scruples; she rubbed her hands togetlier, and beat the 
sand with the end of her foot. She rose up soon and walked 
around slowly like a sultana who drags her slippers over 
the carpets of a seraglio. She did not say anything, but the 
play of her physiognomy indicated that she was conversing 
inwardly. If some curious demon had taken lier thoughts 
in flight and transcribed them, this is what one would have 
read : 

“It is clear that what I am doing is not for myself— de- 
votion to my friends has conducted me here. And then, in- 
fidelity is a tradition of the Comcdie Francaise!, And tra- 
dition is such a respectable thing. As to Paul Emile, it is 
certain that he avenges himself ; he does not tell me so, but 
I know enough on that point for the doubt to be permitted 
me. Besides, he does well. At Ids age, love is not a chain, 
and he is foolish wdio rivets it around his heart. I do not 
believe there are many gentlemen like M. de Chavailles. 
The race is half extinct, and perhaps it will finish with him. 
If my comrades suspected that there is, at Versailles, a 
colonel who has been in love with the same woman for I 
kjiow not how many years, and that this colonel desires 
nothing except to marry her, cA^ery one would wish to see 
him and there would be at his door a procession of 
comediennes! After all, that is to some extent my history 
with M. de FourqueA’-aux, Avith this difference thatAve per- 
mit ourselves nocturnal excursions, without eA^er one of us 
relating to the other the history of the CA’ening before. 
What would life be without a grain of mystery ? a AA^oman 
without a corset, alas ! After a distant journey, one returns 
to the paternal hearth Avith a keener happiness, and never do 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 




th« household {jods wlio protect it receive more fervent ad- 
miration!” 

H(n'e the soubrctte passed from mute conversation to 
monologue. She sighed two or three times, and resumed 
aloud : 

“ All this philosophy does not tell me how to snatch from 
M. d’Argenson tlie secret of what he conceals from me with 
sucli a furious obstinacy. He is going to come, and I am 
not prepared. Hah! I will take counsel of circumstances. 
Private comedy is not like comedy on the stage; in the 
former one ])lays one’s role well only on condition of im- 
provising it.” 

Cydalise was at this i)Oint in her monologue, when she 
heard steps on the gravel. The comedienne turned round 
and saw standing, close to a statue of Hebe, a man who 
saluted her. 

“ The two sisters are together,” said this man ; “ tbei e is 
the same grace and the same youth; but I do not know 
which of the two, C^^dalise or the goddess, is the most 
sensible.” 

“You mcuhAgalizF.,” said the comedienne extending her' 
hand to the cavalier who kissed it; “I warn you that all 
those beautiful flowers are lost, therefore spare yourself the 
fatigue of arranging your discourses like a'bouquet.” 

M. Voyer d’Argenson— for it was he— looked at Cydalise 
and smiled. 

“What! ” said he, “you summon me to you after I know 
not how many days passed without seeing you, and this is 
how you welcome me! And I who put this visit to the ac- 
count of a sentiment almost tender! ” 

“You owe it to my bad humor.” 

“ That is a disagreeable personage, but none tlie less I 
thank her for the happiness I owe to her intervention.” 

“ Do not thank me too quickly.” 

“ Bah! I take the risks.” 

“Well! I am bui’sting with anger.” 

“ Ah ! my God ! it is a quarrel you are fishing for? ” 
“Yes.” 

“ You are going to make out that you have great wrongs 
to reproach me with.” 

“ After the madrigal comes raillery. You are backsliding, 
M.le Comte.” 

“Are you quarreling with me in order to punish me for 
having snatched you from the company of M. de Chavail- 
les?” 

“What! you know— ” 

“ I know everything.” 

“ That is just; it is your business.” 

“And I fulfill it conscientiously. Eh! it has not taken 
M. de Chavailles long to go far.” 

“Does the fact displease you ? ” 

“Not at all.” 


224 


*mE nOYAL CUAEK. 


“So much the better, for if 3’ou experience the least re- 
pugnance for him, it would be necessary for you to take 
your part of it. M. de Chavailles is one of my friends.” 

“ If I did not know it, it would be because my memory is 
bad.” 

“I have told j^ou so quite often. 

“ Every time that you have procured me the joy of seeing 
you; calculate.” 

“ That would take too long.” 

“ For you, cruel man ; but for me ? ” 

“Well, tiiunder!” 

“ No, not here. The wind is rising and—” 

“ Might extinguish it? ” 

“ Precisely.” 

“Extinguish it then.” 

“No, I am angry, and I stick to my anger as to a thing 
which one rarely has.” 

Cydalise quitted the little bench, took M. Voyer d’ Argcn- 
son’s arm and returned to the pavilion. The comedienne 
sat down and threw off her mantle. 

“ Down there it is cold ; here one stifles,” said she. 

She untied her lace fichu, took from a console a bouquet 
of roses, which she used as a fnn. 

“Supposing we suspend hostilities?” said M. Yoj^er d’ 
Argenson, drawing near to. Cydalise. 

“ No,” said she. 

“It is true then ?” asked the Lieutenant of Police. 

“What! do not my countenance and eyes tell you that I 
am in a frightful anger.” 

“ That is an adjective which does not suit you at all.” 

“The question is not whether it suits me or does not suit 
me— I am furious.” 

“ It is a coquetry the more.” 

Cydalise, who fixed her brilliant looks upon M. d’ Argen- 
son, stamped her foot. 

“ I do not wish you to make me laugh,” said she. 

“The thing is quite simple— get vexed.” 

“Ah! you brave me.” 

“ Does not a treaty of peace always follow a battle.” 

“ Take care; I will dictate to you the conditions.” 

“Dictate very quickly.” 

. Comte Voyer d’ Argenson wished to take Cydalise’s hand, 
who gave him a blow on his fingers with her bouquet of 
roses. 

“Eh! ” said the count, “you are picjuant sometimes,” 

He took a rose from the bouquet and passed it OA^er a 
drop of blood on his finger caused by the scratch of a 
thorn. 

“Blow for blow,” said he kissing the hand which had 
struck him. 

Cydalise withdrew her hand quickly. 

“ Your bloAVs are more dangeuous than mine,” said she. 


THE ROYAL CHAS^. 


225 


“ Then I will say to you like a famous Athenian : Strike, 
but listen.” 

“I wish to strike and not to listen.” 

“You are quite charming,” replied the count. 

“ It is because you are obstinate in opposing me,” said 
she. 

The count looked Cydalise in the face. 

“ Are you serious ? ” he asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Well! in four words tell me what I have done.” 

“ Why do you persist in not acknowledging to me that 
Mile, de Blettarius is in a convent? ” 

The count bounded from his seat. 

And she added quickly : 

“An extraordinary accident has been necessary to bring 
me to the convent in which she is enclosed. What a soli- 
tude in the depth of the woods! ” 

“You have gone to Chevreuse,” said the count taken in 
the snare. 

“Yesterday,” replied Cydalise, with superb self-pos- 
session. 

“ Since you know it, I will not deny it,” said M. Voyer d’ 
Argenson. 

“Oh! do not inconvenience yourself.” 

“It is useless; but if you take some interest in Mile, de 
Blettarius, insist on her not leaving her retreat.” 

“Why?” 

“ Why ? ” said the Lieutenant of Police opening the win- 
dow of the boudoir ; “ come close to me, if you wish to 
know.” 

Cydalise rose up and nonclialantly leaned against the 
light balustrade of a balcony wliich overlooked the garden. 
The night was limpid, the breeze sighed in the foliage and 
the flowers balanced thetnselves upon their stems. 

“Well! ” said she, “here I am.” 

M. Voyer d’ Argenson extended his arm in the direction 
of some great trees which shaded the extremity of the gar- 
den. 

“Do you hear that faint cry which sounds in the silence 
of the night,” said he, “that solitary note which rises at 
regular intervals ? ” 

“Yes,” replied the comedienne, “it is the hoot of some 
screech-owl.” 

“The owl is invisible, but it watches; if the wren leaves 
its nest, it will not go far. Do you understand ? ” 

“Very well; but the owl has another name in civil life,” 
replied Cydalise turning her brilliant eyes toward the Lieu- 
tenant of Police. 

“Oh! ” said M. d’ Argenson, “ it is sometimes called jus- 
tice.” 

And thereupon he closed the window. Cydalise shivered ; 
the word which M. Voyer d’ Argenson had just pronounced 

15 


226 


THE ROYAL CHASE, 


was one of those which awaken sinister ideas in the mind 
of a woman accustomed to see injustice the ordinary pur- 
veyor of the Bastille and l^^ort 1’ Eveque. She looked at M. 
Voyer d’ Argenson with a frightened air and said nothing. 

“You are very pale, my charmer,” the Lieutenant of 
Police then said, “empty this glass of champagne ; it will 
return the roses to your cheeks and the smiles to your 
lips.” 

“ It is because he loves her so much! ” said she drying a 
tear with her hand. 

“Listen,” said the count with a grave air; “ there are 
many things which I feign to be ignorant of because they 
do not directly interest either the king, my master, or my- 
self ; nevertheless I know them. Mile, de" Blettarius is at 
Chevreuse, in a convent; I do not need to inform those 
who do not ask me news of her, but if perchance some one 
recollects that she exists and lives with her father, in a 
place so close to the court, it will not depend on me to pre- 
vent—” 

“What?” Cydalise quickly asked, remarking the hesita- 
tion of M. Voyer d’ Argenson. 

“My faith, all that'you can suspect! I have said noth- 
ing, partly because of you who appear to be interested in 
Mile, de Blettarius, and partly because it did not matter 
much to me whether she was here or elsewhere. But since 
others than myself know this secret concealed for so long a 
time, I wash my hands of it, and if some misfortune hap- 
pens to this young lady through your imprudence or hers, 
it will not be my fault.” 

“You are a terrible man! ” exclaimed Cydalise. 

“ So I have been told.” 

“ And detestable.” 

“ You have given me the right not to believe it.” 

“That is not the question,” said the comedienne, who 
could not keep from smiling. 

“ It is however the prettiest subject of conversation that 
I know anything about.” 

“You speak an apocalyptic language; can you not ex- 
press yourself more clearly ? ” 

“ I have already said too much.” 

“Ah! you think so! Well! I shall not imitate you.” 

“ I did not think you would.” 

“And this secret which I have discovered in spite of you, 
I will confide it to some one—” 

“ToM. de Chavailles?” 

“You divine at once.” 

“ At your ease.” 

“ What evil can result from it? ” 

“ How do I know! ” 

“Well you shall soon know.” 

“ Which means that you will speak to him to-morrow.” 

“Yes.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


227 


“ That is your affair. Between a soubrette of the Com- 
^die Francaise and an officer of the king, the secret can not 
fail to be so well kept that everybody will know it before 
eight days.” 

Cydalise threw a handful of roses at M. d’ Argenson’s 
nose. 

“ That will teach you to jest! ” said she. 

The leaves fell to the right and to the left, and the Lieu- 
tenant of Police kissed the hand which had thrown them. 

“ To punish me thus,” said he, “ is to provoke me to be- 
gin again.” 

“Well! begin again then and I will continue,” said she 
abandoning her hand to him. 

“ No; you know the proverb and I am silent; kisses are 
less indiscreet than words.” 

It was clear that M. Voyer d’ Argenson was decided not 
to speak, and the coquetries of Cydalise would avail noth- 
ing. Cydalise withdrew her hand upon which M. d’ Argen- 
son had glued his lips, and enveloped herself in her cloak 
with a pouting air. 

“You act the discreet,” said she, “ as if the thing were 
worth the trouble! Is it not known that the retreat of 
Mile, de Blettarius is known to a certain chevalier who 
sometimes visits her ? ” 

The Lieutenant of Police trembled. 

“ You are a demon ! ” he exclaimed. 

“ Bah! I am a comedienne, and that suffices.” 

“ Well! I implore the comedienne to avoid the chevalier. 
If the one is a little demon, the other is a big devil.” 

The phrase had nothing formidable in itself, but the voice 
of M. .Voyer d’Argenson struck Cydalise. 

“ Ah! it is he then wdio is to be feared ? ” said she. 

“ He or another, it matters little.” 

The first moment of surprise passed, the Lieutenant of 
Police returned into his impenetrable impassibility. Cyda- 
lise understood him and did not insist; besides she knew 
almost all that she desired to know, the place where Mile, 
de Blettarius had withdrawn and who was the man that 
visited her. The thought that the vision of the child was 
true absorbed her entirely. M. Voyer d’ Argenson looked 
at her for some moments with the mute attention of a man 
who takes pleasure in admiring a work of exquisite form, 
w'oman or statue, and Cydalise was altogether adorable. 
The light of the candles played upon the.soft curls of her 
*.hair, which seemed sprinkled with gold dust, and, gliding 
over her forehead, tinted with a blonde light the pearly 
transparence of her skin and the charming color of her 
cheeks; the round and polished chin of the comedienne 
reposed in the hollow of her hand; her shoulder, whiter 
than the snow at sunrise, protruded from her dress, and her 
naked arms had the enchanting grace and the firmness of 
outline which are to be seen in the divine arms of the 


228 


THE liOYAL CHASE. 


Venuses of Cleomenes. M. Voyer d’ Argenson softly ap- 
proached and kissed Cydalise on the neck. 

“ You conspire ? ” said he. 

“I!” said she bursting with laughter, “I am dream- 
ing.” 

“ Hum ! it is at times the same thing.” 

Cydalise looked keenly at M. d’Argenson, and filling up 
her glass with Champagne, she said : 

“ftedge me. Monsieur, and to-morrow to serious af- 
fairs.” 

The next day, Cydalise harnessed her chaise and left for 
Chevreuse. Since tiie king’s men had leveled the old walls 
of Port Royal des Champs, there was no monastery in the 
neighborhood except that of the Sisters of Mercy. Their 
pious habitation rose up at the foot of a wooded hill; a 
thousand old trees grouped in the valley surrounded it 
with their secular shade, and from amidst their green sum- 
mits, rose up the steeple of the convent. A deep silence 
reigned around this house; Cydalise had herself conducted 
to the door of the monastry and rang; the door opened al- 
most immediately, and a sister appeared at the entrance. 

“My sister,” said the comedienne, “I must speak to 
Mile, de Biettarius on a matter which suffers no delay.” 

“On whose part do you come, my sister?” asked the 
nun. 

“On my own,” replied Cydalise resolutely. 

“ That is very well ; but it is not enough,” said she. 

“ Ah ! a name is necessary to you ? ” said Cydalise. 

“ Yes, my sister.” 

“Well! say to Mile. Christine that M. de Chavailles’ 
sister wishes to speak to her. You will see that she will be 
very happy on learning it.” 

“Really!” said the nun joining her hands. “She has 
need of good news. Enter with me, I am going to get her 
and bring her to jmu.” 

“At last! ” said Cydalise, setting foot in the place. 

The nun conducted the comedienne to the parlor, and 
left to bring back Mile, de Biettarius. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

THE MASK FALLS. 

For a moment Cydalise experienced more pulsations of 
the heart than she had ever known before. Soon light steps 
were heard along the corridor. The comedienne looked 
toward the door through which the nun had gone out, and 
Mile de Biettarius appeared. 

“Heave you with Mademoiselle,” said the nun who ac- 
companied Christine, “ and may her visit bring you happi- 
ness.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


220 


She withdrew, and Cydalise ran to Mile. Blettarius. 

“Mademoiselle,” said she, “in order to see you I have 
lied.” 

“You are not Mile, de Chavailles, Hector’s sister?” ex- 
claimed Christine recoiling. 

“No,” replied Cydalise, “I am not his sister, nor ami 
in any way his relative, but I am his friend.” 

Cydalise’s air prepossessed one in her favor. “ You would 
not deceive a poor girl who has never done you wrong,” 
said Christine. 

Cydalise touched, took Christine’s hand. 

“I have never seen you,” said she, “ but what I have 
been told about you inspired me with a desire to know you; 
now that I see you, count upon me as upon him” 

“You do not speak of Hector,” said Christine in a tone 
which indicated all her love. 

“M. de Chavailles is at Versailles; he lives, he is a 
colonel, he loves you.” 

Christine tottered as if about to faint. 

“Do not resist your emotion,” said Cydalise, “ it is one 
of those which do good.” 

Christine leaned on her new friend and wept abundantly. 

“Now,” continued Cydalise whose eyes were humid, 
“ tell me if you are here of your own accord.” 

“ Yes,” replied Christine drying her eyes. 

“ Therefore, you can leave when you wish.” 

“ I could, if my father were not slightly sick.” 

“ At least, it will always be easy for you to leave this con- 
vent for an hour or two.” 

“Oh! certainly!” 

“That is all that is necessary for the present; later we 
will find an exile for you where it will be more easy to meet 
you. I speak for both of you.” 

“Oh! I hear well enough.” 

“Listen, Mademoiselle, I have need of all your confi- 
dence ” 

“ I have given it to you. You speak to me in Hector’s 
name.” 

“ Does not a man come to visit you in this house ? ” 

“ Yes, often.” 

“ Every day ? ” 

“ No, not regularly.” 

“ How does he look ? ” 

“ He appears to be almost fifty years of age, is of middle 
stature, a little large but not too much so, grave and of a 
remarkable distinction.” 

“ Is he not dressed in black ? ” 

“ Almost alw'ays.” 

“ Did you see him yesterday ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you know his name ? ” 

“I believe that he calls himself Coq-Heron,” 


230 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“ Coq-Heron,” exclaimed Cydalise manifesting a great 
surprise. “ Coq-Heron, M. de Chavailles’ valet ? ” 

“ Himself. That is the name he gave the first time I saw 
him.” 

“ The impudent liar! ” 

“Beside he was the bearer of a letter through which M. 
de Chavailles asked me to place the greatest confidence in 
him.” 

“ That is strange.” 

“Itw'as Hector’s handwriting. This man told me that 
his master had hastily; left for Flanders, where he was sent 
by an order of the minister.” 

That is true.” 

“Some days thereafter, this man came to tell me that our 
retreat was known, and that my father and myself had 
better retire to a convent.” 

“ And that is what you did ? ” 

“ The same day.” 

“And the false Coq-Heron constantly visited you.” 

“ Yes. He brought me letters wdiich informed me that 
Hector could not leave the army and that he did not foresee 
the time w'hen he could.” 

“ Did you answer these letter ? ” 

“ Could you doubt it ?” 

“ You invariably remitted them to the person who took 
the name of Coq-Heron ? ” 

“Itw^as necessary. Soon M. de. Chavailles’ letters be- 
came rarer, and he did not reply clearly to the questions 
addressed him.” 

“And the false Coq-Heron ? ” 

“Oh! he came constantly. His attentions were extraor- 
dinary. Soon the confidence wdiich I liad in him was 
changed into reserve, then into aversion. His presence 
w^as repugnant to me and inspired me with a certain fear.” 

“ Did he speak to you of M. de Chavailles ? ” 

“ Often ; on those occasions hisw’ords were warm, but the 
expression of his face and the tone of his voice were not in 
unison with his discourse. Some time afterward, the 
seigneur wdio protected us died ; my father fell sick, but al- 
though seemingly ready to succumb to the malady under 
wdiich he labored, he gathered new strength in his love for 
me.” 

New tears came to Christine’s eyes. Cydalise embraced 
lier softly ; a question was upon her lips, but she dared not 
address it to Mile, de Blettarius. 

“Courage! ” she said to lier, “your father — ” 

“ My father lives,” replied Christine who understood the 
hesitation of Cydalise. “ M. fie Chavailles’ letters had 
ceased altogether; his confident—” 

“ Say his enemy! ” exclaimed Cyd«‘ilise. 

“Yes, his enemy,” resumed Christine, “ his enemy whom 
I interrogated eluded my demands ; finally he one day said 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


23t 


to me that M. de Chavailles had disappeared after a combat, 
and it was thought he had taken service with the Imperial 
troops.” 

“The wretch! after falsehood calumny! ” 

“Some days thereafter he handed me a letter dated from 
Mayence, through which Hector made known to me his in- 
tention of taking service in Hungary against the Turks.” 

“ After this letter dated from ]\Hiyeuce did you receive 
others ? ” 

“ A second written from Vienna, Austria.” 

“ This informed me that M. de Chavailles was going to 
leave for the frontier; it was short and was the last. It was 
then that I resolved to take the veil and to remain forever 
in this retreat.” 

“You shall not take the veil!” exclaimed Cydalise. 
“ Hector is at Versailles ; exile has ceased for him ; he en- 
joys the favor of the King; he has never been to Mayence 
or Vienna.” 

“ But his letters! his letters! ” said Christine. 

“We will pierce that mystery some day. A serpent has 
glided between you and him.” 

Thereupon she imparted to Christine the suspicions which 
Hector entertained, and spoke to him of the chevalier. At 
this word, Christine joined her hands. 

“Now I understand the language and manner of this 
mao ! ” said she. “ But this does not explain how he came 
to have the note remitted by Hector to Coq-H6ron, at the 
time of his departure for Flanders.” 

Cydalise shrugged her shoulders. 

“ Do you believe that the chevalier is a man to recoil be- 
fore violence ? ” said she. “ But let us leave the past and 
occupy ourselves with the future. We will find a means to 
bring you and Hector together again.” 

“ Do you hope so ? ” asked Christine. 

“I am certain of it,” replied the comedienne. “Have 
you forgotten the old adage : What woman wishes, God 
wishes.” 

“Oh! there is much to be said with regard to that.” 

“ Well! if a means does not exist, we will invent it.” 

Christine embraced Cydalise without replying. Cydalise 
was going to explain her plan of uniting the two lovers, 
when steps were heard in the room which adjoined the 
parlor. Christine placed her hand upon Cydalise’s 
mouth. 

“I recognize that step,” she murmured ; “ it is he. 

“ The chevalier ? ” said Cydalise. 

“Yes.” 

Cydalise disappeared behind a curtain, and Christine 
made ready to receive the chevalier. The chevalier en- 
tered the room. It was indeed the same gentleman whom 
M. de Chavailles had, in company with MM. de Biparfonds 
and de Fourquevaux, encountered at the Due de Mazarin’s. 


232 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


He was clothed in black, and the five years which had 
passed away had left no trace upon his countenance. The 
chevalier glanced rapidly around the room, and saluted 
Mademoiselle de Blettarius.- 

“ I almost feared to disturb you. Mademoiselle,” said he, 
“as I was told that you were not alone.” 

“ The person who was with me left me a moment ago,” 
replied Christine. 

“The visit of this person must have given you a keen 
pleasure, for your countenance has never seemed gayer,” 
said he. 

“ Very keen.” 

“ Is it a person whom you did not expect to see ? ” 
Christine’s heart bounded with indignation. 

“You have guessed it. Monsieur,” she replied, “ and this 
person has brought me news which I did not hope for.” 

“ You delight me, Mademoiselle,” said the chevalier with 
his usual cold smile; “but would it be indiscreet to ask 
you to inform me in what this news consists ? ” 

“M. de Chavailles is at Versailles,” replied Christine. 
“Ah! ” said the chevalier with a tranquil air. 

“ By the little surprise which you manifest, I imagine 
that you were far from being ignorant of his return ? ” 

“ It is possible.” 

“Perhaps you know that he has never quitted Flanders, 
and that he has not been to Austria ? ” 

“ I perceive that you are well informed.” 

“ Therefore, you do not seek to deny ? ” exclaimed Chris- 
tine. 

“I do not.” 

“You have been lying then ? ” 

“And why not ? ” said he with a jesting air. 

Christine looked him in the face. 

“ Do you want me to express my indignation at the black 
crimes of which you have been guilty ? ” 

“Ah 1 Mademoiselle, you might as well refrain ; you could 
not do justice to them. And as to your projects— I can 
readily guess what they are. You are going to inform M. 
de Chavailles, through the person who has paid you a visit, 
of your presence here. He loves you, and wull immediately 
come to you. Once united you will hasten to bring to a 
conclusion a marriage formerly broken off.” 

“ Through you ? ” 

“Through me.” - 

“You acknowledge it. Monsieur ? ” 

“ I never lie when there is no occasion to do so.” 

The cynical expressions of this man frightened Christine, 
“Continue,” said she. 

“ Married, you wull go together to throw yourselves at the 
feet of the King and ask him for your father’s pardon. Am 
I right?” 

“Entirely so.” 


THE UOYAl. CHASE. 


233 


“The project is charming, unfortunately you have 
counted without me.” 

“ Who are you then to thus interpose ? ” 

“Who am I? The question is rather indiscreet, you 
must acknowledge. That is why you will permit me to not 
reply to it ; but believe me that I can do almost anything I 
wish.” 

Mademoiselle de Blettarius shivered in spite of herself. 

“ But,” said she trying to appear calm, “ why do you op- 
pose a design which would bring about the happiness of 
two persons without harming you in any way ? ” 

“ Why ? Do you wish to know why said the chevalier. 
“ Oh! as to that, I can easily tell you. And, since you have 
started the conversation, we are going, if you please, to 
talk at our ease of different things which you are ignorant 
of, but which it is well enough for you to know.” 

Thereupon, the chevalier, with a remarkable sanq-froid 
and a perfect grace, presented a seat to Christine who had 
remained standing, and sat down himself. Cydalise 
stretched her ears and the chevalier, after a moment’s si- 
lence, continued the conversation in these terms : 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

TWO AGAINST ONE. 

“ You ask me. Mademoiselle,” said the chevalier, “ why I 
oppose the marriage which you project? ” 

“Yes, Monsieur,” replied Christine. 

“The reason is very simple— it is because I love you.” 

Christine trembled. 

“And I love you because I hate M. de Chavailles,” pur- 
sued the chevalier. 

Christine recoiled. 

“ You are astonished,” he resumed ; “ when you shall 
have learnt to know me, nothing that I do or say will sur- 
prise you.” 

“ But,” said Mile, de Blettarius, “ why do you hate M. de 
Chavailles?” 

“I might reply that I hate him because I love you; but 
that is not the true motive.” 

“What has he done to you? Where have you known 
him ? How has he offended you ? ” 

“M. de Chavailles’ life is more bound up with mine than 
you might think for, but I have not the time to go into de- 
tails.” 

“Well, no matter what your hatred, you will never suc- 
ceed in separating M. de Chavailles and myself.” 

“Do not be too certain of it. You have forgotten one 
thing— M. de Blettarius is here.” 

“ Well ? ” said Christine anxiously. 


234 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“He is, you are aware, laboring under tlje weight of an 
accusation, which can be brought up agjiin.” 

“Ah! Monsieur! ” exclaimed Mademoiselle de Blettarius 
rising up, “it did not seem that cowardice could go so 
far! ” 

“ Why should my words surprise you ? ” 

“ Therefore you would denounce an old man ? ” 

^ “ I would dare to do so.” 

“Go, Monsieur,” said Christine; “God is with us and 
will protect us.” 

The chevalier bowed and went out. He had scarcely 
crossed the parlor door when Cydalise parted the curtain 
and ran to Christine. Christine, whiter than a statue, 
leaned against the back of a chair. 

“The wretch,” exclaimed Cydalise, “ is as ugly as he is 
wicked.” 

Christine pressed Cydalise’s hands. 

“Come,” said she, “what are your projects ? ” 

“What I have heard,” replied the comedienne, “has 
slightly modified my plan. In the first place I wish to take 
you away from here.” 

“ To conduct me ?— ” 

“ I know not where. But take it all in all you are better 
off here than elsewhere, until we find a safe retreat and 
one altogether sheltered from the pursuit of your perse- 
cutor.” 

When Cydalise quitted Christine she revolved a thousand 
projects in her mind which she abandoned as'soon as they 
were conceived. What slie dreaded mo.^t was the zeal and 
impetuosity of M. de Chavailles. Hhe resolved not to 
speak to him of Mile, de Blettarius until she had penetrated 
the chevalier’s designs. At this time M. de. Chavailles was 
at Marly. His fortune seemed to take a great flight. Tlie 
King’s favor covered him, and behind this impenetrable 
buckler his friends began to believe that in the future he 
(iould brave tlie ari’ows of fate. M. de Fourquevaux saw 
him already, in his mind. Marshal of France, and duke and 
peer of the Kingdom. M. de Eiparfonds alone was dis- 
turbed at this rapid flight. 

“I do not like,” said he, “that impetuous happiness 
which mounts toward heaven at the first stroke of good for- 
tune. It is somewdiat like certain flown.us which grow up 
and expand in a single night. The least breath wuthers 
them, tlie first puff of wind l>lows them down.” 

On these occasions, M. de Fourquevaux took Hector by 
the arm and carried him off. 

“Leave,” said he, “leave this sinister philosopher; he 
was stung in the heel by the asp of melancholy wdiile in his 
cradle.” 

One day as M. de Chavailles wms returning from wmlking, 
he encountered Coq-Heron at the door of his room. 

“Eh! eh!” said Paul Emile, “ I would willingly wager 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


235 


from our frieiid’s countenauce that ho has some good news 
to make known to us.” 

“ Hum ! ” said the soldier shaking his head, “ as for the 
news, I have it; but whether it is good or bad, that I am 
ignorant of.” 

“Does it concern Christine? Speak!” exclaimed Hec- 
tor. • 

“It does not concern Mile, de Blettarius,” replied Coq- 
Heron, “ but I will speak all the same.” 

“ Letusiiave the news,” said M. de Fourquevaux. 

“A man came to ask for you this morning at M. de Ripar- 
fonds’ hotel.” 

“ What kind of a man ? ” asked Hector. 

“ A man like all men, well enough built and growing 
gray.” 

“ Do you know him ? ” 

“No.” 

“ Do you know his name ? ” 

“Oh! as to that, yes. You have told it me often 
enough for me to recollect it.” 

“You call him?” 

“ Brother Jean.” 

“ The hermit of Mont Ventoux! ” exclaimed Hector, 

“ No less a personage than he.” 

“Parbleu! ” exclaimed M. de Fourquevaux, “you shall 
introduce me to him. I much desire to meet him.” 

“I shall not fail to do so. Monsieur,” said the valet. 

“ What brought him to M. de Eiparfonds’ hotel ? ” asked 
M. de Chavailles. 

“ To seek you.” 

“ He wants to speak to me then ? ” 

“Apparently. He seemed much disappointed at not 
meeting you, and it was then that I introduced myself.” 

‘‘ And the beautiful name which you bear has undoubt- 
edly delighted him ? ” said Paul £imile. 

“ Ah ! you laugh, Monsieur ? ’* replied Coq-Heron. “ Well, 
this name has made his countenance radiate with joy.” 

“ The name alone! Brother Jean is easily satisfied.” 
“‘Ah! you are Coq-Heron?’ he said to me; ‘lam de- 
lighted to meet you ; your master has spoken of you to me 
in terms which made me anxious to know you.’ ” 

' “ He must be a very polished rascal.” 

“And as I saluted him : ‘You are a man,’ he has added, 
‘to charge yourself with a commission for M. de Chavailles 
\yhom I love like a son ? Tell him that I have a rendezvous 
this evening, upon the Pont Neuf, at seven o’clock, with a 
certain scoundrel who has already employed me some five 
or six years ago.’ ” 

“ He has told you that ? ” exclaimed Hector. 

“I repeat to you his expressions word for word. As re- 
gards Tuemory, I am like an echo.” 

“ Is that all he said to you ? ” 


236 


THE BOYAL CHASE. 


“ He told me that you should uot neglect to go to Paris to 
assist at this rendezvous, because you would perhaps find 
there the occasion to penetrate a mystery up to this time in- 
explicable. He has strongly insisted on this point.” 

“ Is that all ? ” 

” It was then that he said to, me : ‘ I am Brother Jean ; M. 
do Chavailles knows me well, but if perchance he hesitated 
to respond to my invitation, will you, my worthy Monsieur 
Coq-H6ron, repeat to him these four words : The icoods of 
Marly \ he will understand.’ ” 

“ Eh yes, I understand.” 

“ On leaving; Brother Jean has given me his hand, and, 
my faith, I have pressed it.” 

“You have done well, morbleu ! ” said Paul Emile. 

“He is perhaps a great scoundrel ; but the thought that 
he was trying to render you a service has softened me to- 
ward him. On going away he said: ‘ Let him not fail to 
be there; the occasion is a beautiful one, and if he does not 
seize it this time, he will not find it again perhaps.’ ” 

“You say at seven o’clock upon the Pont Neuf ? ” asked 
M. de Chavailles. 

“Upon the Pont Neuf and at seven o’clock, this evening. 
Brother Jean will, be near the quay, on the side of the Rue 
Daimhine.” 

“Well! we shall be there,” replied M. de Fourquevaux. 

“ Ah ! you will also go.” 

“Parbleu! if perchance the companion of the woods of 
Marly brought some brigand of his species, I would charge 
myself with him.” 

“ Do you speak of Brother Jean ? ” said Hector. 

“ No, of the other, the invisible one— I do not know why, 
but I trust Brother Jean.” 

“And you are right. Whatever else may be said about 
him, he, keeps his promises.” 

Paul Emile sighed. 

“How many people reputed honest who do not do as 
much,” said he. 

“Come,” resumed Paul Emile, “we have four or five 
hours to kill. Let us change clothing and go to lose a little 
time and a great deal of money at the play of the Dauphi- 
ness. There is always there a quantity of pretty women 
who ask only to make merry.” 

“Let us go,” said M, de Chavailles. “And j^ou, Coq- 
Heron, see to it that our horses are ready between five or 
six o’clock.” 

“Monsieur le Marquis, they will be ready at four,” re- 
plied Coq-Heron. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


237 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

MAN PROPOSES AND WOMAN DISPOSES.* 

When MM. de Chavailles and de Eonrquevaux appeared 
in the gallery where the play was going on, a great number 
of seigneurs and ladies of the court, gathered around 
princes and princesses of the blood, were talking vivaciously. 
They were conversing about the stage and the war, and 
about those thousand rumors which circulate unceasingly 
in an idle and curious world. The tables were prepared, 
the cards disposed, the fauteuils ranged in a circle; the 
presence of the king, who liked play for high stakes, set 
things going. The Dauphiness sat down at one of the 
tables, tlie Duchess de Berry sat down at another, the prin- 
cess of the blood imitated them, and the gentlemen who 
were in the gallery dispersed here and there, some gather- 
ing around the Dauphiness, some around the Dauphin, ac- 
cording as they were grave or gay. Accident willed, and 
perhaps also the attraction of M. de Fourquevaux, who 
loved the grace and gayety of the Duchess de Berry, that M, 
de Chavailles should find himself at the table of this young 
princess. He was slightly behind her and closely, so that 
only by turning her eyes she could see him. She distin- 
guished him and rm^lied to his salute by a pretty movement 
of her head. Paul Emile launched a glance at the Marquis ; 
but this glance was so expressive, that M. de Chavailles 
could not keep from smiling as he shrugged his shoulders. 
Paul fimile advanced into the middle of the circle of court- 
iers, drew near to Hector, and, leaning toward him, whis- 
pered : 

“ Do not act the disdainful ; there are men who would as- 
sume the airs of the Pythian Apollo for the half of the little 
salute which has Just been made you.” 

Hector was going to reply, when the Duchess de Berry, 
raising her eyes in his direction, asked M. de Chavailles : 

“ What did M. de Fourquevaux say to you then ? ” 

“ My God! Madame, almost nothing.” 

“ I am certain of it, but still 1 ” 

“ How do you mean that ? ” said Hector embarrassed. 

“ Quite simply, as it has been said.” 

“ Well 1 Madame, he w'as translating into prose the fable 
of the Batons ftottants : 

Far off it is something and close by His nothing.** 

“ That is to say, Madame,” interrupted Paul Emile, “that 
M. de Chavailles is very obstinate ; I pointed out to him the 
stars and he obstinately pretends that they are lanterns.” 

The Duchess de Berry glanced from one to the other of 
the two young men. 

“M. de Fourquevaux speaks with an assurance which is 


238 


THE ROYAL CHAS^. 


ill his favor,” said she; “ look better, M.' de Chavailles, per- 
haps he is right.” 

Hector trembled and Paul Emile sighed. 

“All these blessings,” he murmured to his friend, “are 
lavished on ingrates! you harvest, and I who am a shepherd 
fur tenderue*^s, glean nothing.” 

“No, no,” said Hector, “ the princess has not understood 
this flood of comparisons, it is impossible.” 

“ Pshah! women always understand, and princesses are 
doubly women.” 

The Duchess de Berry had started playing again ; the 
the cards went and came in her hands with the grace which 
she infused into all that she did ; the gold streamed between 
her fingers, and, from time to time, laughter, soft as the 
silvery clash of two castanets, uncovered her teetli, wdiiter 
and more brilliant than those of a cat. 

“ You do not play ? ” said she after a moment, addressing 
herself to M. de Chavailles. 

“ To play against you, I would never have the courage,” 
replied Hector, “ and to play for you, would be to play with- 
out risks. See, your highness gives at every play.” 

“So that through timidity and through virtue you risk 
nothing. Take care, he who risks nothing has nothing.” 

“ A word, Madame, and I risk everything.” 

“Quite true ? ” said she, throwing a velvet glance from 
the corner of her eye at the young colonel. 

“ Try, Madame — for you or against you, at your choice.” 

“Well! no — I reserve such a beautiful devotion for better 
occasions.” 

“ Does that mean that in the meantime I am good for 
nothing ? ” 

“ No, and you have too bad an opinion of your merit.” 

“Well! Madame, give me then a proof the contrary.” 

“Do you insist on it ? ” 

“Much.” 

“ Well! I name you my treasurer.” 

“I accept— though, to tell the truth, I am somewhat of a 
novice in such functions.” 

A happy play sent a hundred louis in the direction of the 
princess. 

“Quick!” said she laughing, “take your hat in both 
hands — there — and come up close to me. Your hat will 
serve me for a cash-box, and in it I will put my treasures.” 

Fortune was smiling on the Duchess de Berry ; she had 
before her a heap of gold pieces, and each play brought new 
louis to her. 

She took them by handfuls, and threw them into M. de 
Chavailles’ hat. 

The play went on with uncertain chances, but some 
checks were soon repaired, and the treasurer’s hat sw^elled 
under the \veight of the gold. The princess talked and 
laughed ; Hector breathed the perfume of her hair, looked 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


239 


at her round and velvety shoulders, encountered her eyes, 
and dreamed much if he did not think. Suddenly a clock 
struck five and drew him from his reverie. 

“ Already ! ” murmured M. de Chavailles. . 

Paul Emile and he exchanged a rapid glance. 

The Duchess de Berry was still playing ; Hector held in 
his hands the treasure which she had confided to him ; the 
horses already saddled were waiting. On one hand, Brother 
Jean might grow impatient, and the occasion would be lost ; 
on the other hand, it was not decent to abandon a princess 
who has named you her treasurer. What ought he to do ? 
Hector thought that two hours was more time than was nec- 
essary to go from Marly to the Pont Neuf, and that he 
would be punctual at the rendezvous by leaving only at six 
o’clock. He made a slight sign to Paul Emile, who smiled 
and gravely remained in his place. The sinile of Paul 
ilmile seemed to say; “you are at tlie chapter of capitula- 
tions, and this chapter will lead you far.” 

An hour passes quickly at play, and when the clock 
struck seven, it seemed to Hector that ten minutes had not 
flown away since it had struck five. 

“Diable! ” said he. And his fingers commenced to twist 
the rim of his hat. 

A man kills his enemy who bars his way; he revolts 
against obstacles which are in opposition to his projects ; 
he struggles against the embarrassments which accident or 
rivalry give birth to; but he does not break away forcibly 
from a^young and pretty woman who smiles and looks at 
him with speaking eyes. The torture which Hector endured 
did not lack then a certain sweetness. He prayed for some 
fortuitous circumstance to come to his deliverance, but the 
circumstance not presenting itself, he philosphically re- 
signed himself to his martyrdom. Hector and Paul Emile 
exchanged a new look full of anxiety on one side, full of 
irony on the other; after which M. de Chavailles, who di- 
vined his friend’s secret thought, raised his eyes to heaven 
as if to take it to witness of his good will, and M. de Fourque- 
vaux made a little mouthful of incredulity. Besides it was 
possible to arrive in time at the Pont Neuf by pushing the 
horses a little. In a half an hour. Hector felt that he could 
cross the distance which separates Marly from Paris. He 
had then a half an hour still to lose without remorse. And 
then Hecter knew that Brother Jean was a man full of re- 
sources; he would find the means to detain his interlocu- 
tor, and his patience would not find fault with a delaj^ of 
some minutes. At the end of a quarter of an hour, the 
Duchess de Berry rose up. Hector thought that the mo- 
ment of deliverance had come ; but, through a singular ef- 
fect of his joy, he sighed. The Princess turned toward 
him. 

‘‘ T have attached 3mu to my person,” said she with the 
most seducing smile, “you will remain there.” 


240 


THE BOYAL CHASE. 


Hector bowed, without replying, the mocking look of Paul 
Emile pursued him and froze'him. 

You are goiug to follow us iuto the gardens,” continued 
the princess; ” the evening is magnificent and we will talk 
while walking. The least that I can do for you is to make 
you forget the trouble which 1 have given you.” 

“ Such a soft recompense for such a charming task! you 
are prodigal, Madame! ” replied M. de Chavailles. 

He turned over his treasure to a page and followed the 
Duchess de Berry, who descended to the gardens. 

The half an hour struck as the company left the chateau. 

“Poor Coq-Heron is taking useless pains,” said M. de 
Fourquevaux quite low to M. de Chavailles: “I am going 
to advise him to go to bed.” 

“ Befrain from it! we will rush our horses and will arrive 
at the end of the conversation.” 

“ Poor beasts ! They will pay for everybody,” murmured 
Paul Emile. 

Hector brusquely quitted the jester. The shadows com- 
menced to creep over the lawns; it was already dark under 
the elms; the evening was warm, and the doubtful light 
which played over the landscape augmented its grace. The 
mildness of the faint breeze which sang in the branches of 
the trees disrobed by the autumn; the perfume of plants 
refreshed by the dew ; the softened tints of the sky where 
the silver light of twilight was disappearing; the melan- 
choly murmurs of the deep forests which blackened the 
sides and the crests of the hills; everything predisposed 
the soul to that languor which renders it the accomplice of 
every weakness and docile to all impressions. A small 
group of persons had accompanied the Duchess, who walked 
the sand with the undulating step of a goddess running 
over the clouds. Hector was close to her. Gradually the 
company parted, and the Princess, with her treasures, re- 
mained alone near a cascade which sang at the feet of a 
nymph sleeping among the weeds. 

“You are mute as a dream; perchance you do dream? ” 
said the Duchess de Berry to M. de Chavailles who had 
never submitted more strongly to the influence of exterior 
objects. 

“ Eh ! Madame, to whom does this not sometimes hap- 
pen ? ” replied Hector. 

“ Sometimes is not often.” 

“It is sometimes too often.” 

“ How do you mean that ? ” 

“ The dream is an intractable courser; you confide your- 
self to it, and often, at the first bound, it carries 3*011 toward 
the most chimerical countries. There are dazzling appari- 
tions, and then everything disappears, except the regret.” 

“ Apparently the regret of what one has lost ? ” 

“ Not altogether.” 

“Ah!” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


241 


“ The regret of wliat one has never had.” 

The Princess looked at Hector. Her eyes shone like two 
drops of dew upon a llower. 

“ But,” said she, ” what one has not, it is necessary to 
conquer.” 

Hector, whom the trend of the conversation had brought 
back to Christine, sighed. 

“To conquer the impossible belongs only to the gods,” 
said he, “ and I am only a soldier.” 

“Eh!” said the Duchess, “ mythology teaches us that 
shepherds have conquered divinities.” 

“ In the land of chimeras, Madame.” 

“ Seek well, and you will find that this land is not so far 
off as it is said to be,” said she. 

“ I have sought and I have not found.” 

“ Commence again.” 

“ Hum 1 I have an ugly enough guide.” 

“ Change him.” 

“And the means when you only know one. 

“ What do you call this in grate ? ” 

“Chance, whom the happy call Providence,” replied 
Hector bitterly. “ I have confided myself to chance and 
chance has betrayed me.” 

“Bah! chance is feminine, whatever the grammar may 
say about it; it is never so near to smiling as when it treats 
you worst.” 

“ Must I accept your words as a presage of good augury ? ” 

“What do you risk?” 

“ A greater sadness if the augury deceives me.” 

“There are some oracles which never lie,” said the Prin- 
cess raising her beautiful eyes to the Marquis. 

Hector was dazzled. 

“ Well! ” said ho, “ I no longer doubt and confide myself 
to you.” 

“And you are right; confidence brings happiness.” 

“ Yes, when confidence resembles you, Madame.” 

The undulating walk of the Duchess de Berry, like that 
of a siren over the waves, caused the sand to creak ; you 
would have said that she was a young immortal gliding 
with timid steps toward the Thessalian hill. She smiled at 
Hector’s reply, and, breaking the flexible stem of a flower 
which had expanded in the hollow of a Florentine vase, she 
said ; 

“Do you believe in talismans ? ” 

“I believe in the hand which gives them,” said Hector 
who submitted in spite of himself, but with a sort of in- 
ward intoxication, to the magnetic influence of the hour, 
the place, the solitude, and soHly followed the flowery slope 
which stretched before him. 

The Princess let fall the flower which she held in her 
hand. Hector stooped quickly and picked it up; but, when 
he wished to return it to her, the Duchess de Berry was 


242 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


already flying like a fairy down the avenue. Hector re- 
mained immovable for some moments, with his eyes fixed 
upon the confused and charming image which soon disap- 
peared. Night soon enveloped the garden, in the midst of 
which appeared like silent phantoms, the white silhouettes 
of the statues. Lights scintillated behind the windows of 
the chateau, whose black mass stood boldly out against the 
sky. A profound reverie possessed the mind of M. de 
Chavailles when a hand was placed softly upon his shoul- 
der. Hector turned back and recognized M. de Fourque- 
vaux. 

“ Well! beautiful Endymion, I take you in the act,” said 
the Count; “ Diana has just fled and you are dreaming like 
the mythological shepherd.” 

“I do not see why you compare me to Endymion,” re- 
plied Hector somewhat embarrassed. 

“ Alas! ray dear Hector, if you wish me to suspect noth- 
ing why do you hold in your hand that indiscreet flower? ” 

Hector bit his lips. 

“This flower,” said he, “ was under my hand, I have 
gathered it. What do you see wrong about that ? ” 

“ Peste! I take cffre not to see what is not there; I see 
there a thousand tender sighs, rendezvous at evening, silk 
ladders, kisses in the dark. I see there many things, but 
nothing wrong, I swear to you.” 

“You are mad,” exclaimed Hector. 

At this moment the sound of a clock traversed space. 
Hector trembled. 

“Seven o’clock,” said he. 

“ Yes, seven o’clock. — Brother Jean had counted without 
a princess of the l)lood.” 

“Come! ” said Hector impetuously. 

He seized Paul Emile’s arm and drew him in the direction 
of the stables, where Coq-Heron was waiting for them. 

“At last!” said the valet; “the poor beasts have had 
time to eat their bits.” 

“Good!” replied Paul Emile, “impatience is a spur; 
they will go the more quickly.” 

“ Therefore, we start ? ” 

“ See, your master is already in the saddle.” 

“Ah! Monsieur,” exclaimed Coq-Heron, “you imagine 
to go more quickly than time, and do you think that by 
leaving at eight o’clock you can arrive at seven.” 

But Hector did not hear him ; he had started, and Coq- 
H6ron had to imitate him. 

“ Keep your reprimand, it will serve for to-morrow,” said 
M. de Fourquevaux. 

And in some bounds he had rejoined M. de Chavailles. 
They galloped without speaking as far as Paris ; but, at the 
gates of the city, they had to check their course ; a thou- 
sand obstacles obstructed the streets. Paul fimile profited 
by this moment’s respite to whisper some words to Hector. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


24 ^ 


“ Do you know, my dear Marquis, that you are the luck- 
iest gentleman in France! You gather a simple flower 
through pure distraction, and it turns out that this flower 
is a golden key which opens to you the door to the temple 
of Cytherea.” 

“You talk nonsense,” replied Hector, “ and why, I pray 
you, all this mythology ? ” 

“Oh! this is a detail of character. — I never think of gal- 
lant affairs without immediately recollecting all the gods of 
Olympus. Would you believe it? I have for a long time 
regretted not being a member of the Academy in order to 
have the occasion to write a book upon transcendent my- 
thology applied to love.” 

“Write it!” said Hector who was thinking of Brother 
Jean and urging on his horse. 

“ See how happiness already renders you egotistical. 
Under what star were you born ? Like Caesar, you may 
say : ‘ I came, I saw, I conquered ’—for you have con- 
quered.” 

“Come! ” replied Hector, “ do you speak seriously ? ” 

“ More seriously than a pope.” 

“ Therefore, you believe ” 

“ I believe that to-day is the first time in my life when I 
have not desired to be a son of France and to call myself 
the Due de Berry.” 

“ What! because a fantasy has given me the functions of 
treasurer, because a caprice has been worth to me a half an 
hour’s intimate conversation, because accident has placed 
a flower in my hands, your imagination constructs a whole 
romance.^’ 

“ In the first place, my friend, permit me to observe to 
you that there seems to be quitean assemblage of accidents, 
caprices, and fantasies.” 

“ But finally,” said Hector, “since you constrain me to 
speak gravely of extravagant things, why should the Prin- 
cess deign to accord me an attention which she would not 
accord to others.” 

“ Because, a priori^ as they say at the Sorboune, it is al- 
ways accorded to some one.” 

“ That is not a reason.” 

“ Oh ! I have reasons by the dozens. In the first place, at 
the time you were believed to be in exile, that is to say more 
than dead, you suddenly arrive from the army like a prince 
of M. Perrault’s f^iry tales, and at the first stroke you ob- 
tain the King’s favor— a citadel. There was something in 
that, you will agree, to attract people’s attention. But that 
is not all yet. Mystery gives to your return a romantic tint 
which exalts the imagination of courtiers of both sexes; a 
thousand rumors circulate about you, and the narrative of 
your achievements stupefies the echoes of Versailles ; your 
valor is regarded as something marvelous. I have made 
an epopee of your St. Wast expedition. Now, from all time, 


244 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


Venus has adored Mars. You are young and well formed 
> > 

“So are many others.” 

“Three fourths of the men are here for proving the con- 
trary. And then, you have the reputation of a man in love 
with an unknown woman.” 

“Ah bah! ” 

“ It is I who have given it to you.” 

“ And why ? ” 

“I do not know. It was one evening while talking of 
Pyramus and Thisbe, I believe. Now lovers of that species 
are rare to-day. Your renown has in a quarter of an hour 
taken colossal proportions ; the women of the court sigh as 
they name vou.” 

“WhatfoUy.” 

“You have come near embroiling ten couples. It does 
not take much to excite the curiosity, and I will say the 
coquetry of a woman. Fidelity is a lover which attracts 

them, and if one passes for an Orpheus, one runs the risk of 
being burdened with dozens of Eurydices. Ah! if you did 
not love, above all if you were not loved, no attention would 
be paid to you, but, as it is, your conquest offers to the 
Eves of the court all the attraction, all the pleasure of for- 
bidden fruit.” 

Hector smiled, and M. de Fourquevaux continued in 
these terms : 

“I know how it is; man is tow and woman fire. And 

then, if there is a science that I know anything about, it is 
the geography of the map of Teuder. From the path of 
little cares to the grove of perfect content, is not so far as one 
thinks, and you will perceive it.” 

“ I hope not.” 

“ God of Heaven ! what have I heard ? ” exclamed Paul 
Emile. 

But Hector, who saw the Pont Neuf, was not listening. 
The two cavaliers arrived and traversed it. Brother Jean 
was not there. 

The passers whom M. de Chavailles questioned had seen 
nothing. Some idlers and soldiers were stationed along the 
parapet, but no one paid any attention to the two gentle- 
men. 

“ Parbleu ! ” said Coq-Heron, who had been fuming since 
the departure from Marly, “see what it means to gaze at 
the rooks under the elms.” 

“Eh! friend!” exclaimed M. de Fourquevaux gravely, 
“speak more respectfully of birds which you do not 
know.” 

“Eh! what difference does that make ?— One chatters 
with linnets who have nothing to say ; but well informed 
persons who desire to speak to you, are forgotten.” 

Hector made the tour of the Pont Neuf ten times over. 
At the tenth he stopped. 


THE RO VA L CHASE. 


245 


“If Brother Jean wishes to speak to me, he will know 
where to find me,” said he, “ let ns no longer seek him.” 

“Do you return to Marly ?” said Paul fimile. 

“ No, I am going to M. de Eiparfonds’ hotel. 

“ Well! a good night’s rest, I (luit you.” 

“ You are going to Cydalise’s ?” 

“ Yes, my friend, virtue makes a duty of it.” 

“ How do you explain that ? ” 

“It is very simple. I feel very melancholy, and when I 
am in that state, I have a marvelous tendency to commit 
follies. Cydalise is my buckler.” 

Paul Emile took the direction of the Pue de Tournon, 
where Cydalise lived, and M. de Chavailles passed over to the 
right shore of the Seine to gain the Rue St. Honore. Hector 
had not reached the neighborhood of St. Germain 1’ Aux- 
errois, when he heard a horse coming rapidly behind him ; 
he turned back and recognized Paul Emile. 

“ And that virtue which obliged you to go to Cydalise’s ? ” 
asked M. de Chavailles checking up his horse. 

“ My faith,” said Paul liJmile, “ I have made a reflec- 
tion.” 

“ You ? ” replied Hector. 

“Yes, I, who make many of them without appearing to 
do so, and this reflection has proved to me that prudence as 
well as good breeding forbade me to pay a visit to a person 
who does not expect me.” 

Hector smiled as he looked at Paul Simile. 

“Eh!” said that gentleman, “laugh if you please; I am 
not curious. There are jealous men who glide at night, 
with wolf-like steps, to the dwellings of their sweethearts ; 
they are indiscreet. I know some gallant men who go and 
glue their ears to doors when they are believed to be a thou- 
sand leagues away : they are stuf)id.” * 

“ And you avoid both indiscretion and stupidity ? ” 

“You have said it.” 

While talking in this fashion, the two cavaliers arrived at 
the Rue St. Honore. A lackey was upon the door-step of 
the Hotel, waiting for M. de Chavailles. 

“Monsieur le Marquis,” said this lackey, “ a man came 
some time ago and asked for you.’^ 

“ Did he tell you his name ? ” 

“ Yes, Monsieur le Marquis, he calls himself Brother 
Jean,” 

“ Good ! Do you know where I can find him ? ” 

“ He is inside, waiting for Monsieur le Marquis.” 

“ I was sure of it! ” murmured Hector. 

And leaping down from his horse, he hastily mounted the 
perron, followed by M. de Eourquevaux. 


246 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


CHAPTEK XXXVII. 

A TKEATY OF ALLIANCE. 

When M. de Chavailles and Paul Emile arrived in the 
room where Brother Jean was waiting for them, the worthy 
hermit was seated before a table suitably provided with 
things calculated to calm the most obstinate hunger. Two 
empty bottles were extended on the table like enemies hors 
de combat ; a third, vigorously attacked, appeared half con- 
quered, and two others still, ranged in order of battle upon a 
corner of the table, seemed disposed to receive the assault 
of the indefatigable combatant, 

“ Eh! you have come! ” exclaimed Brother Jean without 
disturbing himself, as soon as he perceived Hector ; “for 
two hours I have been waiting for you.” 

He poured out a bumper full of wine and swallowed it. 

“But from what I see,” replied Hector, “ jmu are not 
losing your time, good hermit.” 

“ Time is a capital which it is necessary to employ use- 
fully. Why waste the blessings which Providence sends 
us ? ” 

“ I know. Brother Jean, that you are full of an exquisite 
philosophy, that you are a sort of French Epicurus, who 
join practice to theory ; but that is not the question ; you de- 
sire to speak to me, I believe ? ” 

“Oh! one thing at a time, if you please. I am supping 
now, we will talk afterward.” 

“ Nevertheless the great haste in which you sent Coq- 
Heron to Marly ”, 

“It was very pressing, morbleu! but the great haste 
which you have displayed in coming leaves us plenty of 
spare time. You know the proverb” 

“ There are so many of them.” 

“ The occasion lost ” 

“Is found again. Brother Jean.” 

“The variation pleases me. That is why we have leisure 
to wait.” 

The logic of this reasoning constrained M. de Chavailles 
to no longer insist. He knew besides that Brother Jean had 
upon certain subjects well defined opinions, from which no 
human force could have made him deviate. 

“ Well, then,” said he, “ since we have time, permit me to 
present you one of my friends, a gentleman who, hearing 
through me of your prowess, has formed a keen desire to 
make your acquaintance.” 

“Parbleu! this gentleman has taste.” 

Thereupon Brother Jean rose up and saluted M. de Four- 
quevaux. 

“It is certain,” said Paul Emile, “ that I have a long 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


247 


time wished for this good fortune. I have been told many 
astonishing things of you.” 

“ My faith, I strive every day not to give the lie to so 
good a reputation,” 

“ And you succeed ? ” 

“As best I can. But, you know, however well one does, 
there is an ideal which one never attains, and that is what 
makes me despair.” 

“ Kecollect the proverb : ' Do what you should, come 
what may ! ” ’ 

“Hold,” said the hermit, “both of you sit down and let us 
sup gaily, as in the fortunate days when M. de Chavailles 
and myself translated Ccitullus at the tower of Mont Ven- 
toux.” 

To tell the truth, the proposition appeared a little singu- 
lar to M. de Chavailles, but nothing that came from Brother 
Jean could astonish him. They had drank and eaten to- 
gether formerly; the ties which united them were very ex- 
traordinary and permitted the passing over of the rules of 
the severe etiqiiette of the time ; besides it was a means to 
force Brother Jean to make haste. Hector made a sign to 
Coq-Heron who laid two covers, and M. de Chavailles sat 
down in front of Brother Jean and by the side of Paul 
Emile. 

“This is to act like true soldiers !” exclaimed the pen- 
sioner of M. d’ Argenson.— “ Ah! Monsieur le Marquis, 
your presence, these wines which shine like ruby waves in 
these crystal cups, these wax tapers, this solitude, everj'- 
thing recalls to me those innocent nights during w’hich, 
lost in pursuit of a difficult text, we forget the hours be- 
tween the divine Horace and ten bottles.” 

Thereupon Brother Jean sighed. 

“ The impudent rascal! ” murmured M. de Fonrquevaux; 
which did not prevent him from adding aloud : 

“ Friend, you have a delightful humor, and I imagine 
that in your company one has nothing to fear from sad- 
ness.” 

“Monsieur le Comte, the first time sadness pays you a 
visit, drown it in a glass, and when you have made it sub- 
mit to this treatment a half a dozen times, it will bother you 
no more.” 

“ The receipt pleases me! ” 

“ Are you subject to its provocations. Monsieur ? 

“ Sometimes.” 

“That is because you have no vice! ” exclaimed the her- 
mit with a learned air. 

“Ah bah! ” 

“The doctrine is new,” said Hector. 

“And surprises you ? ” added the hermit. 

“ I acknowledge it does.” 

“Nothing is more clear, however.” 

“Explain it to us,” said M. de Fonrquevaux. 


248 


THE EOYAL CHASE. 


“The explanation needs moistening; that is why if it 
pleased your lordship to order Maitre Coq-Heron to bring a 
supplement of bottles, my demonstration will be more 
clear.” 

Coq-Heron, who was pleased by Brother Jean’s humor, 
and who was grateful to him for the devotion w'hich he had 
shown for the Marquis, did not wait for M. de Chavailles’ 
orders, and speaking to two lackeys seated in an ante-room, 
had a basket of different species of wines brought in. 

“Eh! eh! ’’said Brother Jean drawing seven or eight 
bottles from the basket, “ Maitre Coq-H^ron does things 
well. The composition of this basket comes from an ob- 
serving mind.” 

Brother Jean filled up the glasses and drank one of them 
brimming full. 

“This opens my ideas,” said he, “and I feel strong 
enough now to debate with Cicero.” 

“Let us have your theory of vice then,” said Paul 
£miie. 

“A vice! ah Monsieur! You do not know all the virtue 
there is in a vice! ” exclaimed Brother Jean ; “ a vice is the 
most faithful friend you could dream of, the only one who 
never abandons you, whom neither bad fortune nor the 
disappointments of life can determine to renounce you. A 
vice is the most devoted servitor, the Achates of men for- 
tunate enough to possess it. It follows you wherever you 
go, fears neither cold, nor heat, nor fatigue, nor hunger. It 
is flesh of your flesh and blood of your blood.” 

“ You are giving us anode when we ask for a demonstra- 
tion,” said Paul Emile. 

“It is a remedy we need and not poetry !” interrupted 
Hector. 

“Poetry! and you complain of it!” exclaimed Brother 
Jean, “but that is all vice is! ” 

“ Good! you are going to prove to us that vice is a son- 
net.” 

“ Yes, Monsieur, a sonnet, a madrigal, an epopee, an 
eclogue! anything you wish; that which is sweetest and 
most refreshing in the world. It is the consolation of mor- 
tals, the nectar of life, the ambrosia of the heart! But, who 
has vices to-day ? ” 

“ Parbleu! ” said Paul Emile emptying his glass, “ many 
people of my acquaintance.” 

“ These people boast! They have defects, and that is all.” 

“ Your statement is curious.” 

“ I don’t know about its being curious, but it is true.” 

“What! not a vice?” 

“ Not one — unless among privileged men ” 

“And the rest of mortals.” 

Vnlgiim peciis, as we said at college, these have only 
bad habits ; but no vices. If they speak of them, do not 
listen to them. ’Tis pure vanity on their part.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


24y 


“ Where the devil does the vanity fix itself ? ” said Hec- 
tor. 

“Oh! there is vanity in everything. I have worked ten 
years to give myself a good vice, but a vice with a robust 
constitution, which would not give way at the first tempta- 
tion. How many cares and how many pains it has cost 
me! But I have succeeded.” 

“ And the end crowns the work ? ” 

“Do not jest! thanks to my vice, I am the happiest man 
in France. As soon as ennui takes me, I call my vice to 
my aid and I am cured. What is a vice ? for it is necessary 
to fix the meaning of words, and we are going to reason, if 
you please.” 

“ Let us reason,” said Paul fiiraile. 

“ What is a vice, I ask you ? ” 

“"My faith! a vice has always passed for a vice,” replied 
Paul Emile after having scratched his forehead. 

“ Not at all ! it is a passion.” 

“ The synonym is original.” 

“It seems to me, Maitre Jean, that you place a beautiful 
mask on an ugly face, ’’said Hector. 

“ The one is moulded upon the other. Now, a passion is 
a buckler to protect you from the enemy. You abandon 
yourself to its counsels, you let yourself be guided by its 
caressing hand, and gaily, without counting the days, you 
descend the river of life. Your chimera is your vice : the 
man who has this flame in his heart carries liis consolation 
with him. He has an occupation for every moment. His 
passion envelopes him like armor sheltered by which he 
braves the arrows of sadness. A vice! Monsieur le Mar- 
quis, is the most complaisant of mistresses.” 

“You delight me,” exclaimed Paul Emile, “and your elo- 
quence determines me to choose some honest vice suitable 
to an idle gentleman.” 

“ In these matters it is best to act with prudence. Before 
making a choice, study well your character and your tem- 
perament,” replied the hermit in a serious tone ; “ to take 
a vice, is to take a wife, and you know that our laws permit 
no divorce.” 

“ This makes me reflect; a marriage, however gay it may 
be, having always somber sides which frighten the boldest 
souls.” 

“Some,” pursued Brother Jean, “make choice of ambi- 
tion, which is a heroic vice. Some take to cards ; others tie 
before their eyes the bandage of the mythological cupid ; 
there are still others who prostmte themselves at the feet of 
the golden calf. My vice is imprisoned within a glass and 
sealed with red.” 

Brother Jean drew the cork from a venerable bottle, and 
raised his glass. 

“Wine is forgetfulness, messieurs,” said he. 

“Hum!” said Coq-Heron, “from bumper to bumper I 


250 


THE ROYAL cnAi:iE. 


am afraid that you will end by forgetting everything, even 
the object of your visit.” 

“ Friend Coq-Heron,” replied the drinker proudly, “ if you 
knew Brother Jean better, you would know that the entire 
vintage of last year might pass through my goblet with- 
out making my mind hesitate or my legs totter.” 

At this moment the lackeys entered and started to clear 
the table. 

•‘Hello ! my fellows,” said Brother Jean, “ carry away the 
napkins and the plates, but do not touch the bottles! Wine 
is the salt of conversation.” 

Hector made a sign to the lackeys who disappeared after 
having done as Brother Jean ordered. 

“ Now then, Monsieur le Marquis,” resumed the hermit, 
“ it pleases you to know why I have asked you through 
Coq-Heron to join me, to-day, upon the Pont Neuf, at seven 
o’clock in the evening.” 

“ That is it.” 

‘‘What I have said is to prove to Coq-Heron that I never 
forget anything.” 

“ It is an honorable susceptibility.” 

Brother Jean poured out a glass of wine, looked at the 
vermilion liquor through the light of a candle, drank a few 
swallows and placed the glass upon the table with the 
gravity of a German professor. 

“Ah! Monsieur, why have you not put faith in my 
words ? ” said he. ^ 

“Eh! marbleu! I have put faith in them, but circum- 
stances impossible to foresee have not permitted me to leave 
sooner.” 

“ Yes, my brave fellow, twilight and the elms have op- 
posed this departure,” said M. cle Fonrquevaux. 

“So much the worse! Monsieur, so much the worse. If 
you had arrived at the hour agreed upon, you would have 
found a man with regard to whom you have often ques- 
tioned me.” 

“The man of the woods of Marly.” 

“ The same ! If it was permitted me to cite poets, with 
variations, I would say with Racine ; 

Failure had not cast down his pride 

and the same projects which he nourished at that epoch, I 
have every reason to believe that he still nourishes them.” 

“ The worthy man! ” said Paul flmile. 

“Tell me by what accident j^ou came to see him again ? ” 
said Hector. 

“ Oh! it is very simple. I was at a cabaret this morning 
having a drink with honest Biscot, when my man has en- 
tered and strikii^ me upon the shoulder, said : ‘ I want to 
talk to you.’ ‘That may be,’ I replied rising up, ‘let us 
talk.’ ‘Not at present; I have not the leisure,’ said he. 
‘ All right, I shall be ready any time that suits you.’ ‘ Well, 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


251 


then,’ said he, ‘be at the Pont Neuf at seven o’clock this 
evening, I will be there.’ Thereupon he slipped alouis into 
my hand and* went away. ‘ What do you think of all this ? ’ 
said I to Biscot, whom I sometimes consult. ‘You will see 
if M. le Marquis has returned ? ’ he said to me. This was a 
ray of light for me. I ran to M. de Eiparfonds’ hotel and I 
found Coq-Heron there.” 

“ I can bear witness to Coq-Heron’s exactitude in fulfill- 
ing the commission which you gave him,” said PaulElmile. 

“I wish to God that an elm had not been between your 
lordships and the Pont Neuf! ” said Brother Jean. “Oth- 
erwise the rascal would be dead.” 

“ Bah! it is only a task delayed,” exclaimed Paul Emile. 

“ Hum ! I warn you that the fox is subtle.” 

“ Agreed ! but the hunters are not fools.” 

“We shall see about that,” said Brother Jean. “At 
seven o’clock I took my way to the Pont Neuf; my man was 
already there. He drew out his watch, looked "at it, and 
said : ‘ You are exact.’ ‘ It is my trade,’ I replied. ‘ Come,’ 

said he, ‘ I have an expedition to propose to you.’ ‘ Against 
M. de Chavailles! ’ I exclaimed- ‘ What do you know about 
it ? ’ said he fixing his eyes upon me. I understood that I 
had made a blunder, and wished to repair it, but my devil 
of a man frowned. He interrupted me with a ‘ That is all 
right!’ which said quite the contrary; after which he en- 
tered upon the main subject.” 

“ And what was it about ? ” asked Hector. 

“ Oh ! to exercise surveillance over a gentleman who very 
much resembles your lordship.” 

“ He did not name me then ? ” 

“ I was so awkward as not to give him time to do so.” 

“ How was that ? ” 

“ While he was talking, my eyes roved about continually 
to see if you were coming. I tried to assume an attentive 
air, but in vain ; I could not keep still.” 

“Ah! Brother Jean! ” exclaimed Paul Emile, “you were 
guilty of a stupid action unpardonable in a man of your 
experience.” 

“I merit all your reproaches. But what could I do? 
There are hours when professors are no more skilful than 
scholars. For a moment, believing to perceive you, I sud- 
denly turned my head. My man stopped short, looked at 
the cavalier whose arrival had deceived me, and said : ‘ I 
do not like people to occupy themselves with passers-by 
when I am talking to them. It is clear that you are ex- 
pecting some one. Good evening, I am going away.’ I 
tried to stop him, but in vain. My discourse and my 
oaths could accomplish nothing. ‘ No, no,’ said he, ‘I see 
what I see; you Jiave your affairs, I have mine— let us not 
mix them.’ The look which accompanied these words ex- 
l)lained their meaning. I said no more and he left.” 

“ You did not follow him ? ” asked Coq-Heron, 


252 


TEE ROYAL CHASE. 


' “ I did follow him ; but my rascal is not one of those 
whom you can follow without their suspecting it. Scarcely 
had I made fifty steps behind him in the Kue delaMonnaie, 
when he turned back, saluted me with his hand and disap- 
peared in an alley. I entered the alley but could discover 
nothing.” 

“Tell me,” said Hector who had been reflecting pro- 
foundly for some moments, “you have neglected nothing, 
unless it is the name of this bandit.” 

“ Ah ! the name ? I know two ; which is right ? ” 

“Neither,” interruptetl M. de Fourquevaux. 

“It is probable,” said Brother Jean, “these men change 
their names like gallants of the court change their ruffles.” 

“ Let us have these names,” demanded Hector. 

“At first he called himself Maitre Simon.” 

“ Maitre Simon’! ” exclaimed Hector and Paul Emile at 
the same time. 

“ Ah 1 it appears that you know him.” 

“Yes, slightl3% but the second name,” added M. de Cha- 
vailles. 

“ His second name is the Chevalier de St, Clair.” 

“The Chevalier!” said Hector, Paul Emile, and Coq- 
Heron at the same time. 

“Eh! ell!” said Brother Jean, “you have heard of the 
Chevalier then ? ” 

“Yes,” replied M. de Fourquevaux; “we may even say 
that we are very well acquainted with him.” 

- “That man is a tiger,” said Brother Jean, “ah! if we 
only knew where he lodged.” 

“I know,” said Hector. 

“You?” exclaimed Brother Jean, rising up from the 
table. 

“Do you recollect, my dear Count, that letter which Coq- 
H6ron seized at the Broc tV Argent?” added M. de Cha- 
vailles. 

, “ The one intended for Baron Klein ? ” replied Paul 
Emile. 

“ Precisely. It contained an address.” 

“Yes,” said Coq-Heron, “the Boi David, Eue de TArba- 
l^te.” 

“It is there that Maitre Simon lives, that is to say the 
Chevalier St. Clair.” 

“Parbleu!” exclaimed Brother Jean, “I will know to- 
morrow, and if the Chevalier is so ii)i prudent as to show 
himself, I swear that I will kill him like a serpent.” 

“ Mordieu! I also swear it,” said Coq-Heron. 

“ And I, too! ” repeated Paul Emile. 

“No, gentlemen, the Chevalier belongs to me,” said 
Hector. ^ 

“To you first,” said Paul ^lmile; “but to me second, if 
you fail, which, please God, may not be the case,” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


253 


Hector extended his baud to his brother in arms; he 
then said ; 

“ Messieurs, it is growing late, and brave men wait for 
the light to track their enemy. We know where the tiger 
shelters himself; till to-morrow then! ” 

“ Till to-morrow then I ” said Brother Jean and Coq- 
Heron. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

THE RUE DE L’aRBALETE. 

The next day,. at dawn, the noisy voice of Brother Jean, 
who had passed the night at M. de Eiparfonds’ hotel, awoke 
Hector, Paul Emile, and Coq-Heron. 

“ Hello! ” he cried, “ do not let us leave to the bird the 
time to open its wings.” 

The troop of allies were out of bed in an instant, and left 
on foot fearing that the arrival of four men on horseback 
might inspire the proprietor of the Box David with some 
suspicion. The Rue de TArbalete, situated at one of the 
extremities of Paris, was then one of the poorest and most 
deserted streets of the Faubourg St. Jacques. A numerous 
population of chickens and ducks wandered in the middle 
of the street. Poor women worked upon the doorsteps, and 
coopers adjusted, under their sheds, their staves and their 
hoops with’ loud strokes of the hammer. M. de Fourque- 
vaux sighed as he placed his feet upon the muddy soil of 
this dirty street. 

“Who would have thought,” he exclaimed, “ that the 
Sologne was so close to the Palais Royal.” 

Just as the troop of allies appeared at one of the extremi- 
ties of the street, the sun broke tlirough the heavy fog ex- 
tended over both banks of the Seine. Brother Jean, long 
since famiiiar with these kind of expeditions, stopped the 
little troop in a corner and held a council of war. 

“Messieurs,” said he, “ when you hunt a man— the slyest 
game of all — it is well enough to take precautions. Our ar- 
rival frightens the whole quarter.” 

“That explains to me why the inhabitants are so ugly,” 
said M. de Fourquevaux. 

“ Those urchins who precede us make more noise than a 
flock of wild geese and will not fail to betray our expedi- 
tion.” 

“Consequently, I believe,” said Paul Emile, “that it 
would be well enough to cut off a few of their ears to make 
them disperse.” 

“ Excellent means for exciting a sedition.” 

“ What must we do then ? ” 

“Separate, in order to divide attention,” said Coq-H4on, 

“ Let us separate then ? ” exclaimed Paul Ilmjle, 


254 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“Not so fast,” said the ex-hermit, “let me first explain 
my plan of campaign. One of us must ambuscade one of 
"the extremities of the street; another must ambuscade the 
other end, in order to intercept the issues. While two of us 
watch the other two will march straight to the Boi David. 
We will politely ask for Maitre Simon. Paul Emile and 
Coq-Heron will do duty as guards, while M. de Chavailles 
and myself will take the other role.” 

Coq-"Heron ran to one of the extremities of the street; 
Paul Emile directed his course toward the other, and 
Brother Jean, accompanied by Hector, took up his way to 
the Boi David. , 

This inn, situated in the middle of the Rue de TArbalete, 
was surrounded by gardens separated from the street by old 
walls. A boy was picking a chicken before the door, a 
knife in his belt and his white cap upon his head. 

“Hey! friend! the master at home, if you please?” 
asked Brother Jean. 

The boy took off his cap. 

“ My master is at the stable ; but if I can do anything for 
you, messieurs, speak,” said he, “ I am at your orders.” 

“ We wish to see Maitre Pierre Simon,” said Hector with 
a tranquil air, “can you conduct us to him.” 

The boy took the crown which M. de Chavailles had just 
slipped into his hand and scratched his ear. 

“ Maitre Pierre Simon ? ” said he. 

“Yes.” 

“I do not know for certain that there is a man of that 
name in our inn.” 

“ Think well,” said Hector slipping a new crown into the 
boy’s fingers. 

“Oh! I am thinking! I will think. a longtime, if you 
wish.” 

“ Always at the same price ? ” said Brother Jean. 

The boy smiled with a stupid air. 

“ Good*! when one does not know,” said he. 

“There, run to your master, and make haste.” 

The boy turned on his heels and disappeared through a 
low door. 

“That boy,” said Brother Jean, “ has too innocent an air 
not to be a little cunning. I know something about physiog- 
nomies.” 

“ Will the master speak more clearly ? ” 

“ At least, he will say yes or no.” 

The proprietor of the inn now came out. He was fat, with 
a low forehead, but his countenance expressed astuteness 
and reserve. He pointed out seats to his two visitors, and 
politely asked them to sit down. 

“ It is useless,” said Brother Jean, “ what we have to ask 
is of so little importance that it is not worth the trouble of 
making you lose your time.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


255 


“ Time is never lost with such cavaliers as yourselves,” 
replied the innkeeper. 

This humble and patient tone were not to the taste of 
Hector and his companion. But Brother Jean promptly 
took his part and made the demand which he came to 
make. 

“You have at yourdiouse,” said he, “ a cavalier named 
Maitre Pierre Simon, with whom this seigneur and myself 
have business ; will you promptly conduct us to him.” 

“ Whom did you say ? ” asked the innkeeper with an at- 
tentive air. 

“ Maitre Pierre Simon,*’ repeated Hector. 

The proprietor of the Roi David rubbed his chin without 
replying, with the air of a man summoning up his recollec- 
tions. 

“ Maitre Pierre Simon,” murmured he, as if speaking to 
himself, “ that name is not altogether unknown to me. — 
Maitre Pierre—” 

“ Simon,” added Brother Jean. 

“ Yes, yes, I hear well enough ; that name sounds familiar 
— can you not aid me a little ? ” 

“ Either he is here or he is not here,” said Hector growing 
impatient, “ that is clear.” 

“Undoubtedly, if he is not here, he must be elsewhere — 
there is the question.” 

“ Parbleu! you have some register on which you inscribe 
\mur lodgers. Let us consult it.” 

“ Oh ! it is so badly kept.” * 

“What matters it?” said the hermit making a step for- 
ward. 

“ It is not worth the trouble,” said the innkeeper detain- 
ing him; “my wife has charge of it, and, between our- 
selves, I believe that she does not know how to write. But, 
can you not tell me what their Maitre Pierre Simon does ? 
There are two or three Simons in the quarter.” 

“ There are a thousand of them in Paris,” exclaimed Hec- 
tor who began to lose patience. 

The innkeeper crossed his hands upon his stomach, and 
waited. 

“ It is a traveler, a man who goes and comes,” continued 
M. de Chavailies. 

“This is more definite. Unfortunately it does not suffice. 
I see so many travelers of all conditions and of all 
countries.” 

“ Is not the name and profession enough ? ’ 

“Alas! no. But nevertheless a word, messieurs ; may I 
ask you on whose part you come ? ” 

“ Now is the time to succeed or fail,” said Hector to him- 
self, and he replied : 

“On the part of Baron Klein.” 

“ Ah! ” said the innkeeper blinking his eyes. 

“ And on a pressing affair.” 


‘356 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“Good!” 

“ The Baron is waiting— make haste/ 

“Is that all?” 

“How, all?” 

“ I mean by that have you nothing more to say to me, to 
remit me.” 

“Nothing!” 

“ Well, Messieurs,” said the innkeeper, “I have not the 
least knowledge of this Maitre Simon.” 

Brother Jean was tempted to gag the innkeeper and 
search the house from top to bottom, but reflection stopped 
him. 

“ It appears that we are deceived,” said Brother Jean to 
Hector, “ let us go and seek Maitre Simon elsewhere. As to 
you, my worthy man,” he continued addressing himself to 
the host, “accept this crown for your trouble.” 

• Hector was not deceived by this language on the part of 
Brother Jean, and he judged that it concealed some project. 
The innkeeper took the crown and bowed. 

“I believe. Messieurs,” said he as the cavaliers were 
about to start, “ that there is a Roi David at the other end 
of Paris, close to the Porte Montmartre. It might be well 
for you to go there.” 

“Thanks, my comrade,” exclaimed Brother Jean with a 
delighted air ; “ we shall not fail to foHow your advice. At 
the Porte Montmartre, you saj’^ ? ” 

“Yes.” 

After they had started, Hector said to Brother Jean : 

“ What is your motive for this sudden departure ? ” 

“Eh! Mordieu! I desire’ to make this worthy rascal take 
us for what we are not. He will then reassure the Chevalier 
whom I propose to watch by establishing myself in this 
neighborhood.” 

Brother Jean went to relieve Coq-Heron of his watch. 
Hector did the same for Paul fimile, who, to pass time, 
was making love to a pretty girl of the quarter. Following 
the hermit’s advice they all gathered together in a cabaret 
for the purpose of refreshing themselves and advising to- 
gether. Bottles were brought and Brother Jean fllled the 
glasses. 

“The council has assembled,” said he, “let those who 
have advice to give, give it.” 

“I am in favor of storming the inn,” said M. de Four- 
quevaux. 

“ What is your project, Brother Jean ? ” Hector asked. 

“ Mine is this : Tomorrow, I will dress myself like a 
soldier and take up my abode in the neighborhood of the 
Roi David. A little money will put me on good terms with 
the servant boys: I will drink with the innkeeper who will 
not recognize me, and the Chevalier will be very cunning if 
he escapes me.’ ’ 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


257 


“Good!” said Coq-Heron,” if you need an aid, I enrol 
myself.” 

Suddenly Brother Jean seized M. de Chevailles by the 
arm, and pointed toward a glazed door whjeh separated 
them from the street. All looked in the same direction. 
A man was passing by, with his hand upon the guard of his 
rapier and his nose to the wind like a greyhound. 

“Coquelicot! ” exclaimed Hector. 

Coquelicot had taken part in the scene transacted in the 
woods of Marly. Brother Jean had pointed him out to 
Hector among the troop which came up after Biscot had 
fired at Hector and Hector, himself, had assumed the role 
of Biscot. Although he had only seen him in the night. 
Hector retained a distinct idea of his general appearance. 
In addition, we may add that Coquelicot was the name of 
the leader of those men who had forcibly carried off Coq- 
H^ron. This much in explanation of Coquelicot’s person- 
ality. 

The cabaret was so darkened by red and white curtains 
that Coquelicot could see nothing that was transpiring on 
the inside. He looked at the cabaret with an absent air, 
and continued his indolent march. 

“It is the devil who sends him to me ?” said Brother 
Jean. 

“ Is Coquelicot his lackey ? ” said M. de Fourquevaux. 

“ He is at least employed by him. Ho you not understand 
that the Chevalier, not wishing my services any longer, has 
addressed himself to Coquelicot ? Let us follow him.” 

And opening discreetly the door of the cabaret, Brotlier 
Jean took up the course pursued by Coquelicot. Ten 
minutes after, he had returned. 

“ I wms sure of it,” said he; “ he has stopped before the 
Eoi David-, the host has spoken to liimfor two minutes and 
they have entered together. A pass- word is necessary; we 
know where to find it now, and Coquelicot will give it to 
us.” 


CHAPTER XXXTX. 

THE PALAIS ROYAL. 

While M. de Chavailles and Brother Jean were employ- 
ing all their time and all their efforts to surprise the Cheva- 
lier, Cydalise was doing what she could to console Christine, 
but she obstinately refused to talk to the Marquis about 
her. 

“Occupy yourself,” said she, “ with delivering the Cheva- 
lier to us; I answer for Christine.” 

Cvdalise showed b.y her air that she knew more than she 
wished to say. Beside she had assured him that Christine 
was alive, and this assurance gave him the courage to wait. 

17 


258 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


On liis part Brother Jean did not lose his time ; one morning 
a man miserably dressed and wearing a cap of fox skin 
entered Hector’s apartment. Hector was about to offer him 
alms, ^yhen this man burst out laughing. 

“Eh!” said the visitor when he had finished laughing, 
“ the experiment has succeeded,” and he took off his cap. 

“ Brother Jean? ” exclaimed Hector. 

“Bight you are,” said brother Jean who wished to make 
sure of his disguise. “ My plan of campaign is outlined.” 

“At last! ” said Hector with a great sigh. 

“ Oh ! Monsieur le Marquis, though it is not a question 
of Berg-op-zoorn or Niemegue, the Bue de 1’ Arbalete has 
its little difficulties.” 

“ I know something of them.” 

“I know the hours at which our friend Coquelicot is ac- 
customed to absent himself. I commence my operations 
to-morrow. We /will employ artifice at first, and if artifice 
does not succeed, then we shall emi)loy coercive measures.” 

“When the time comes, do not fail to warn me.” 

“The place is invested; when it is necessary to give the 
assault, count on me.” 

Brother Jean pulled down his cap over his eyes, and went 
out. In the meantime the Duke of Orleans, who liked to 
vary his pleasures, sometimes gave little fetes, which were 
composed of pieces from operas and scenes from comedies. 
Only his most intimate friends assisted at these represen- 
tations, to which there always succeeded suppers not lacking 
for gayety. Madame de Argenton presided at these re- 
unions, where music and conversation formed the sole 
source of entertainment. M.M. de Biparfonds, de Eour- 
quevaux, and also Hector, had the privilege to attend these 
concerts and suppers, which were prolonged late into the 
night. One day then, the Prince warned his friends that 
there would be comedy and music at the Palais Boyal the 
next day, and asked them to aid him in passing joyously 
the hours. Paul Emile promised for himself and" three 
more, and kept his word. Cydalise belonged to the party. 
In her quality of soubrette attached to the Comedie Eran- 
caise, she had a role to fill in an interlude, and, the hour 
having come, she was one of the first to appear in the 
winga. Some ladies of the court, acquaintances of Mad- 
ame d’ Argenton, occupied the boxes; some seigneurs, 
chosen among the youngest members of the nobility, went 
from the gallery to the wings and from the wings to the 
green-room. The green-room was the place, on these sorts 
of occasions, where the most extravagant discourses origi- 
nated. There were idyls and madrigals, acrostics and de- 
clarations, perfumed discourses and amorous sighs, the 
whole mixed with bursts of laughter. With a little im- 
agination, one might believe oneself in some grove of 
Cytherea, peopled with flying nymphs and pursuing Gods. 
Beside the costumes aided the illusion; arms naked and 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


259 


clothed in indiscreet gtinze-aiid alluring silk, the quivci’ 
u}3on the shoulder and the crescent upon the forehead, the 
divinities of these places had the appearance of iianry 
dryads escaped from the hollows of oaks, or charming 
phantoms, resurrected from the Metamorp]io^<eH of Ovid. 
The proud Juno showed her beautiful teeth; the dress of 
Minerva the prude stopped at her knees; Proserpine 
frolicked like a shepherdess, under the shade of the paste- 
board rose trees; the inconsolable Eurydice listened gaily 
to the merry discourse of some impetuous faun. Daphne 
did not think of flying; Mars let fall his immortal glaive at 
the feet of Andromeda; Diana listened to Actaeon without 
anger, and Thessus, conqueror of Ariadne, stripped petals 
from roses on the knees of Ornphale, who ridiculed Hercu- 
cules and smiled at the handsome Paris. But if all the gods 
of Olympus and all the nymphs of fable whispered in little 
corners, the soubrettes of the comedy were not neglected. 
Dorine, Agnes, Marinette, and Celimene were much besieged 
by the Clitanders Valeries and the Scapins of the court, and 
on all sides there was a constant exchange of glances and 
provocations. We know that it was somewhat fashionable 
then, among the gentlemen of the best houses, to figure in 
ballets, and since Louis XIV. had deigned to appear upon the 
boards in the costume of Apollo, the stage was in great honor 
at Versailles. It often happened that interludes of dances 
separated the opera from the comedy; young courtiers took 
pleasure in filling the principal roles, and the heirs of the 
greatest names in France were to be seen in them donning 
the gilded cuirass of Perseus or arming themselves with 
the wand of Mercury. On these solemn occasions, great 
ladies amused themselves by assuming the mythological 
attributes of Amphytrite or Hebe; the demoiselles of the 
Koyal Academy of Music taught these ladies by what steps 
sirens enchained heroes; and, thanks to these counsels 
mixed with pirouettes, the Phedres and Calypsos of Marly 
had no longer to dread the indifference of Hippolyte or the 
disdain of Telemaque. But the Due de Eiparfonds passed 
thron.gh all this with his superb austerity which was proof 
to all the arrows of Cupid, just as a well tempered cuirass 
is proof to balls, and M. de Chavailles carried around with 
him the distraction of a man whose heart pursues a chimera. 
On the other hand, Paul Emile sighed, talked and acted 
for all three. The Duchesse de Berry assisted at the re- 
presentation ; on her arrival at the Palais Royal, Hector, 
like the lark fascinated by the mirror of the bird-catcher, 
had approached the Princess to salute her. 

“ Will you be seen on the stage, Monsieur le Marquis ? ” 
she said to him. 

“No, Madame; I am only a mortal and the costume of 
the gods does not tempt me.” 

“Eh! Monsieur, the costume is pretty, and the profess- 
ion is not so unpleasant.” 


260 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“ Fitness to wear it is also necessary.” 

“Your modesty is desjaiiring ! Why, if you please, are 
the functions wJiich Jupiter fuitilled in the time of Semele 
so difficult ? ” 

“My faith, Madame, the occasion has never presented 
itself for me to try them.” 

“Ah! ” 

“ And my modesty, which is perhaps pride, waits for the 
occasion to surprise me in my ordinary dress of a simple 
mortal.” 

“ That is to say that instead of the occupation of Apollo, 
conqueror of Nymphs, you prefer the role of the handsome 
Paris, conqueror of divinities.” 

“ Eh! Madame, if I answered yes, what wmuld you think 
of me ? ” 

“ That perhaps you are right,” replied the Princess with 
that smile which rendered her so seducing. 

“ Your approbation decides me, and I renounce Olympus 
forever.” 

“For remaining upon Mt. Ida, where you will wait till 
some goddess comes to seek you.” 

Hector shook his head. 

“ Diana is dead,” he said. 

“Who knows?” replied the Princess, who absently 
stripped the petals from a bouquet of roses. 

The violins began to play, some gentlemen of the house- 
hold of the Duke of Orleans entered, and the conversation 
was broken off. 

“ O Circe ! ” murmured Hector on leaving the Princess. 

It was clear that if he had not loved Christine, he w'ould 
have madly adored the Duchess de Berry. Towurrd the 
middle of the evening, while Theseus was pursuing the 
Queen of the Amazons and disarming her, Cydalise rose up 
from a bank of turf, around which Ulysses, Doran te and 
two officers of the musketeers traced” a semi-circle, and 
taking Hector’s arm, drew him behind a pasteboard grotto. 
Hector looked at Cydalise without speaking. 

“It is other that I wish to talk to you,” said she. 

Hector pressed Cydalise’s hands and kissed theh'i pas- 
sionately. 

“See,” said she, “ the magic of a memory! Were Chris- 
tine in my place you could not have done better.” 

“There are circumstances when love and friendship arc 
sister and brother.” 

“I accept the relationship, though to tell the truth it is 
not without peril. You smile ? ” 

“Slightly.” 

“Well! you are wrong.” 

“ Why so ? ” 

“I am so little accustomed to indifference^ that yours 
has surprised and vexed me.” 

“Ah bah!” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


261 


“ You are astonished.” 

“Much.” 

“ Men are young in the array.” 

“ My faith ! the days last there twenty-four hours and the 
months thirty days, as elsewhere.” 

“ Age must be an affair of latitude then. At Marly, peo- 
ple are generally fifty when they appear to be thirty at the 
most; but in Flandeis they are not more than sixteen or 
eighteen when they seem to" be twenty-eight.” 

“ Whither does this arithmetic tend ? ” 

“It tends, ingrate, to tell you that I have failed to love 
you, because you did not love me.” 

“What folly!” 

“But your flight five years ago has slightly quenched 
this fire, and absence has done the rest.” 

“You are adorable.” 

“ That no longer concerns you Now that my confes- 

sion is over, leave Cydalise and let us speak of Christine.” 

“ You have seen her.” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Where is she ? ” 

“ That is what you shall not know. But it depends on 
you to see her.” 

“ What must I do ? ” 

“ Obey me in everything.” 

“ I am ready.” 

“ The place where Mile, de Blettarius has withdrawn is 
not safe ; it is known. Another must be found where her 
discovery will be impossible.” 

“ That is easy.” 

“ Busy .yourself about it immediately.” 

“ It shall be done to-morrow.” 

“ That is not all yet.” 

“ Speak quick.” 

“The King must be informed of the position of Mad- 
emoiselle de Blettarius and his generosity interested to the 
point of pardoning her.” 

“That is less easy.” 

“Yes, but it is more important.” 

Hector reflected for some moments. 

“Well! ” said he, “ I will consult Guy, he will give me 
good advice.” 

“ Make haste then ! ” 

A bell sounded in the wings and two or three naiads 
passed by. 

“The ballet is over,” said Cydalise; “ Lisette is ex- 
pected, and I must go.” 

Hector, left alone, searched for M. de Riparfonds and 
discovered him in a corner of the green-room, where he 
was employing his time in making peace between two 
Tritons who were quarreling about a lost bouquet. M. de 
Chavailles took him aside and related to him the con versa- 


262 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


tion which he had j ust had with Cydalise. M. de Bipar- 
fonds listened attentively. 

“Cydalise,” he afterward said, “is a person who does not 
lack for sense, in spite of her giddy air. If she has spoken 
to yon in this fashion, the case must be urgent.” 

“So it appeared to me.” 

“I am not in a position to influence the King’s mind to 
any great extent ; but there is a man who will do what I 
can not promise.” 

“Who is this man? ” 

“ The Duke of Orleans.” 

“ Will he consent ? ” 

“ I hope so.” 

“ But is he not on bad terms with the King and Madame 
de Maintenon ? ” 

“ It is true.” 

“I am afraid that his protection may be more hurtful 
than useful to those whom I wish to serve.” 

“ Let us try all the same,” replied Guy. 

Guy conducted Hector to the box occupied by the Duke 
of Orleans, and, whispering to the prince, begged him for a 
moment’s private conversation. 

“ Now ? ” asked the duke. 

“Yes.” 

“ While Jupiter is strewing sjmibolic flowers in Danae’s 
footsteps?” 

“ Leave all this ! Jupiter will seduce Danae without 
you.” 

“ Is it for serious affairs ? ” 

“ Yes, Monsieur.” 

“Well! so much the worse; I warn you that if it is a 
question of war, negotiations, and embassies, I shall not 
budge.” 

“ It is m'ore serious than all this.” 

“In truth?” 

“ It concerns a lover and his mistress.” 

“ Ah ! diable ! ” 

“ The former is afraid of losing the latter; you see that 
the affair must not be delayed.” 

“ I follow you.” 

“ I was sure of it.” 

Guy conducted the prince and M. de Chavailles to a sol- 
itary room. 

“What!” said the Duke of Orleans, “is it M. de Cha- 
vailles who is interested in this affair? ” 

“Alas! Yes,” replied M. de Biparfonds. 

The prince extended his hand to the colonel. 

“Behold thus the meaning of a philosopher?” he ex- 
claimed with a gay air. 

“ Philosophy is not a cuirass,” said Hector. 

“ So I see. But speak quick ; wl at can I do for you ? ” 

M. de Chavailles informed the prince of the particulars 


THE ROfAL CHASE. 


263 


which rendered the situation so perilous for SI. de Blettar- 
ins and did not conceal from him the fact that he intended 
to marry Christine. At the word marriage, the Duke of 
Orleans raised his eyebrows with a comically afflicted air. 

“ That is a very vulgar denouement, and one that is seen 
in all comedies,” said he. 

“If it brings me happiness, I shall be satisfied with it,” 
replied Hector in the same tone. 

“ After all, I shall not quarrel about the employment you 
make of your youth. The end justifies the means.” 

“ It is precisely upon that point we come to consult you,” 
said SI. de Kiparfonds. 

“ That is to say that your means are not successful ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ So that you have need of a place to conceal Sllle. de 
Blettarius and algo someone to assist you with the King.” 

“Exactly.” 

“ The house is not the most difflcult part.” 

“Still, it is necessary to look after it,” said SI. de Bipar- 
fonds. 

“ SI. de Chavailles shall have it this evening.” 

“Keally-! ” said Hector. 

“ And without any trouble. Sladame d’ Argenton pos- 
sesses, close to the woods of Slarly, a hunting pavilion 
which I gave her. She will be glad to let you have it. SI. 
de Blettarius and his daughter will be perfectly safe 
there.” 

“I have not words to. thank you,” said Hector. 

“So much the better,” said the Duke of Orleans inter- 
rupting him. “ But as I told you, that is not the difflculty. 

It is assisting you with the King which embarrasses 

me.” 

SI. de Chavailles looked at him. 

“You are surprised,” said the Duke of Orleans, “but do 
you recollect what I told you at the siege of Turin, six 
years ago ? ” 

“ I do,” said Hector. 

“ Well! nothing has changed : prince of the blood I was, 
prince of the blood I am. Do you understand ? ” 

“ Only too well.” 

“Oh! do not yet despair. What I can not do directly, 

others will do for me. And if I should be refused, well! 

I would affront everything.” 

“Can I hope that you will occupy yourself about it at 
once ? ” 

“ SVill to-morrow do ? ” 

“ It is more than I dared ask for.” 

“I know,” added the prince, “that in a love affair, to- 
morrow is sometimes very late; but we sup to-night, and, 
as you have observed, I can not do two things at a time.” 

But it often happened that the Duke of Orleans kept 
more than he promised ; in spite Of the hour and the supper. 


264 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


he spoke to Madame d’ Argenton of M. de Chavailles^ 
affair. Madame d’ Argenton at once wrote to the man in 
charge of the pavilion, and gave the letter to Hector. Hec- 
tor kissed the hand of the countess and carried the letter 
to Cydalise. Cydalise stuck the letter in her corset and 
embraced Hector. 

“Bah!” said she laughing, “do not trouble yourself to 
return to me what I give you.” 

But a movement in the wings interrupted them. A kind 
of impromptu piece, which terminated the fete and brought 
all the actors on the stage was going to commence. Come- 
diennes, demigods, heroes, satyrs, goddesses, nymphs, shep- 
herds, soubrettes, and fauns ran toward the wings to take 
their rank, and for some moments there was great confus- 
ion. A swarm of naiads and amazons suddenly enveloped 
M. de Chavailles; he felt a hand glide into his, leave there 
a paper, and escape. When he turned back, the swarm of 
mythological divinities had fled and were whirling upon 
the stage. He was alone and holding a note. The address 
was to his name. Either through illusion or resemblance, 
it seemed to him that this address was in the handwriting 
of Christine ; he hastily opened the note, and read these 
words ; 

“ To-morrow, at nine o’clock in the evening, be at the 
Cours la Reine. Be alone, I shall be alone.” 

Hector carried this note to his lips. He looked around 
but saw no one. It seemed to him that these two lines, full 
of mysterious promises, united the broken threads of his 
existence. 

“ I shall go,” he said. 


CHAPTER XL. 

THE COURS LA REINE. 

The Cours la Reine was, at this eimch, the most fre- 
quented promenade in Paris, the place where one was sure 
to meet the most bourgeois, gentlemen, students, clerks, 
courtesans^ jugglers, soldiers of fortune, grisett(‘s, great 
ladies, cavaliers, and shariiei's. But while the idlers were 
to be found in the garden of the Palais Royal or the 
Tuilieries during the day, they only showed themselves in 
the Cours la Reine at nightfall. Scarcely had the first 
shades of evening chased peaceable citizens to their domi- 
ciles, when there was to be seen circulating on all sides a 
crowd of people of divers conditions, who had no other care 
than to enjoy themselves and make a gieat deal of noise. 
It is readily understood that order was not that which shone 
the most in these reunions, and tliat the good merchants of 
the Rue des Lombards or Rue des l^ourdonnais took care 
not to let their wives or cfaugiiters participate in them. A 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


265 


thousand little stalls rising up on all sides, variously occupied 
by mountebanks, charlatans, theatres in full blast, and 
flower girls offering to every passer-by their flowers and 
their smiles, contributed, by their presence, to increase the 
tumult of tliis promenade, one of the most curious and 
picturesque places then to be found in Paris. The fashion 
was to go tliere ; the trees, the shadows, the extent of the 
promenade, gave it a certain mystery; in this crowd you 
were just as if you were in a desert, and the pleasure which 
you found there was intensified by the pleasure of others. 
Around public-houses scattered here and there, some 
torches shed a little light, but it was impossible to see more 
than four steps off. These luminous spots scattered like 
oases in the vast extent of the Cours la Keine rendered 
thicker the neighboring darkness. Hundreds of shadows, 
some in groups and others alone, traversed unceasingly 
this profound darkness, entered the circles of light and soon 
plunged into the night. Young seigneurs of the court and 
their mistresses, the most renowned comediennes, great 
ladies from Versailles or Marly, officers of the king, passed 
by in open carriages and preceded by lackeys bearing 
torches. A thousand flashes of light suddenly illuminated 
the night, dazzled the crowd, and the whirlwind of flame 
disappeared, filling space with a red and vacillating light. 
A thousand cries, a thousand songs accompanied the course 
of these meteors, from which flowers fell with rays ; other 
carriages came after them filled with young women who 
bathed their lips in champagne and provoked passers-by 
with their bursts of laughter. Fine gentlemen were with 
them, clothed in silk and satin, and cavaliers wearing large 
bouquets on their coats followed them seeking fortune in 
the midst of this fair of love. On these sorts of occasions, 
comediennes and great ladies put their incognito under the 
protection of a mask ; some even pushed precaution so far 
as to envelope themselves in a domino; others took fan- 
tastic costumes and dressed themselves as florists and shep- 
herdesses, with knots of ribbon pinned to their shoulders, so 
as to be recognized by their friends. As to the little 
bourgeoises and grisettes, they did not hesitate to ])romen- 
ade in the Cours la Eeine without pretence at disguise. 
Sometimes men supped in carriages, under the light of the 
stars; but while ten guests were emptying their glasses, it 
was no rare thing to meet at the most deserted spot, be- 
tween two lackeys armed with torches, cavaliers who were 
bravely measuring swords with each other. At one place 
they were laughing, at another fighting, and loving every- 
where— at least they said so. In this fashion the night fled 
away, leaving behind it a harvest of smiles and kisses, 
bathed in some tears and reddened with a little blood. 
V/hich were the soonest effaced — the tears or the kisses ? 
The wound healed up, the heart forgot, and everything 
passed away. Hector did not fail eit the rendezvous. As 


266 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


soon as he arrived at the Cours la Reine he began to look 
about, eyeing closely the fugitive masks. Each moment- 
the crowd increased; carriages passed more quickly than 
comets; in the shadows was to be heard the coquettish 
rustling of silk dresses; there was seeking, flying, meeting 
avoiding, pursuing; cries of surprise, bursts of laughter, 
brusque interjf>ellations alone interrupted the confused 
murmur of voices which hovered above the Cours la Reine, 
like the rustling of leaves in the forest or the soft moan of 
waves upon the vast ocean during summer nights. M. de 
Chavailles went from group to group. He had been walk- 
ing for two hours when suddenly a light arm glided under 
his. Hector trembled and quickly turned his head. A 
woman was bj’- his side, Avearing a hood and covered with a 
floating mantle of blue satin. A mask concealed her 
countenance ; her form resembled Christine’s. And besides 
what other woman could lean on Hector’s arm with that 
soft familiarity and that charming abandon ? He stooped 
down, and pressed a kiss upon the forehead of his com- 
panion. The blue domino placed a finger upon heiTipsand 
drew M. de Chavailles to one side where the shadoAvs Avere 
more thick. 

“ My God ! how I love you! ” Hector breathed in his com- 
panion’s ear. 

The domino trembled and clasped tightly M. de Cha- 
vailles’ arm. 

"‘Chut! some one might hear you.” 

Hector thought that Christine had some fear of being fol- 
loAved ; he looked rapidly around him. Students and 
grisettes Avere visible close by. 

“Fear nothing,” said he, “ I have my SAvord.” 

“ Oh ! I knoAV that you are brave, but here it is not a 
question of a SAVord,” replied bis companion. 

She Avalked faster and gained an obscure path AA’here some 
loAWS were promenading apart. The voice of the domino 
produced in Hector’s ear the effect of delicious music. It 
Avas full of emotion, soft, vibrating and pure like the sound 
of crystal. A Avave of divine pleasure SAvept over him, and 
taking the domino’s hands, he covered them Avith ardent 
kisses. The domino made an effort to disengage them ; but 
Hector retained them, and the domino abandoned them to 
the lips of her lover. Night enveloped them in its shadoAvy 
folds ; the moon smiled timidly upon them ; noises, softened 
by distance, floated like a murmur in space, and along this 
promenade nothing AA^as to be seen but phantoms Avander- 
ing in silent couples. 

“Hoav late you 'are! ” said M. de ChaA^ailles, who could 
not groAv Aveary of impressing his lips to the pretty fingers 
of his mistress. 

“You expected me then ? ” replied she. 

“ I hoped to see you, even before liaAdne received your 
note.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


267 


“ And if I had not come ? ” 

“ I would have waited till to-morrow, I would have 
waited forever.” 

“You love me then ? ” 

“Have you ever doubted it?” exclaimed Hector. His 
whole heart was in his voice. 

His mistress looked at him softly. 

“ Yes,” said she, “ this is how I wish to be loved.” 

She was silent for a moment, with her head inclined upon 
the cavalier’s shoulder ; then continuing : 

“Oh! if you should betray me one day, take care. 
Hector!” 

M. de Chavailles shivered at this accent full of passion. 
Incapable of mastering the movements of his heart, he sur- 
rounded his companion with his arm and drew her toward 
him. She wished to repulse him, but remained in his arms, 
full of trouble. Suddenly a man passed rapidly by them. 
She snatched herself from M. de Chavailles’ embrace and 
threw herself quickly behind. Nevertheless the man 
moved away without turning his head. 

“Oh! ” said she, “each man who passes frightens me.” 

“ What do you fear ? ” 

“ How should I know ? nothing and everything.” 

“ You are watched, perhaps.” 

“ Yes, perhaps. — You do not know what cunning and 
audacity it has been necessary to employ to even come 
here.” 

“ My God ! what shall I do to merit you ? ” 

“What you have already done— love me,” said she with 
an adorable grace. 

“ Oh! if I should ever lose you, I would die of it,” said 
Hector in a deep voice. 

“ Why do you speak of dying? one lives on love, one does 
not die of it. But,” continued the domino, “ now that we 
have seen each other, it is necessary to think of the means 
of seeing each other again.” 

“You are charitable and beautiful like the angels.” 

“ We wull never arrive at anything if you constantly in- 
terrupt me.” 

“ Hold! ” exclaimed Hector jn a transport of adoration, 
“ I should like to make you Queen of France.” 

“Eh! but, I believe that I would fill the place as well or 
better than the Dauphiness,” replied the domino proudly. 

The ring of this voice struck M. de Chavailles ; but before 
he could reflect, the white finger of his companion was 
placed softly on his lips. 

“ Do not speak of these things so loud,” said she; “the 
trees of the Cours la Keine might be like the reeds of the 
fable, and it would not require so many of them to ruin you 
at Marly.” 

“ To lose everything and keep you, does not frighten me 
much,” 


268 


THE BOYAL CHASE. 


“ Well ! ” said she, “ I will so act that you shall keep me 
without losing anything at all.— But to do this you must 
obey me in everything.” 

“ That is easy.” 

“ You must be ready for everything.” 

“lam.” 

“ Then we shall see each other again soon, and for a 
longer time.” 

“ Do you speak the truth ? ” 

“ I wish to do better still.” 

“What then?” 

“ You do not divine ? ” 

“No.” 

“ Well! I wish to prove it to you.” 

“When?” 

“ You insist then on its being as soon as possible ? ” 

“ Do you not wish for it yourself ? ” 

“I acknowledge it.” 

“ Let the time be to-morrow then.” 

“ Or at once, is it not.” 

“ I should wish it.” 

“To-morrow, that is’impossiblo.” 

“ This evening then.” 

“ That is still more impossible.” 

“ You decide on nothing it seems.” 

“It is that I wish to decide with certainty; but trust to 
my impatience to abridge the time.” 

“ Each hour which flows away is a year.” 

“ Would twenty-four hours be too long ? ” 

Hector smiled. 

“Promise me not to grow too old,” said she, “and I 
promise you not'to pass beyond that limit.” 

While talking, M. de Chavailies and his companion walked 
slowly along arm in arm, and so close that their foreheads 
almost touched. The voice of the blue domino sighed in 
Hector’s ear, more sweet and more light than the breath of 
a spirit; it was slightly muffled, but supple and caressing, 
and the heart of the lover breathed each murmur of it with 
intoxication. The mystery which surrounded them doubled 
the charm of this conversation, and M. de Chavailies was 
ceasing to count the hours, when his companion stopped 
him. They were then near the Pont Tournant, where the 
accident of their wandering stroll had conducted them. A 
carriage was waiting close by; the coachman was upon his 
seat, and two lackeys were waiting with crossed arms. 

“ We must separate,” said the domino. 

“Already! ” exclaimed M. de Chavailies. 

“ Must I not return before daylight ? ” 

“ What would there be wrong about your returning a 
little after that time ? ” 

“ The evil would be that we should no longer see each 
other perhaps.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


269 


“ Then I give way.” 

“ That is what I wish, and at all times; and, besides, this 
is not an adieu.” 

“ Well ? accord me one more favor! ” 

“ What is it ? ” 

“ Take off that mask which conceals you from my eyes, 
so that I may see you before your flight.— Your image will 
be in my heart and will tell me to hope.” 

“ You wish it ? ” 

“I do.” 

The domino looked furtively around, placed herself under 
the light of the moon, carried her hand to her mask and 
took it off. Hector uttered a cry. He had just recognized 
the Duchess de Berry. 

“ What is the matter with you ? ” she exclaimed. 

And fearing some surprise, she hastily replaced the mask 
upon her countenance. Heator remained immovable before 
her like a man who had encountered a spectre face to face. 

“ What troubles you ? ” said the Duchess, who was 
thoroughly frightened. 

“ Pardon me, madame,” said he stammeringly, “ I saw, — 
I thought I saw— there-^” 

“Who?” 

“ A seigneur of the court.— M. de Riparfonds, I believe.” 

Hector lied and lied badly; but he did not know how to 
explain his trouble. 

The Duchess de Berry looked in the direction M. de 
Chavailles pointed out to her. A gentleman wearing a 
cloak vyas passing by ; he was almost of Guy’s shape, but 
had not his air. 

“ It is not he,” she said with a shake of her head. “Ah! 
how you frightened me! ” 

“ It concerned you, madame, pardon me,” replied Hector 
already master of the emotion caused by the surprise. 

“That is a word which redeems your cry,” said the 
Duchess, “ but adieu. I quit you.” 

She escaped in the direction of the carriage, one of the 
lackeys presented his hand ; she jumped lightly in, and the 
carriage left before M. de Chavailles had made a movement. 
A thunderbolt bursting suddenly at his feet would certainly 
not have produced as much effect upon Hector as the 
presence of the Duchess de Berry. Now that she liad dis- 
appeared, he asked himself if it was really the daughter of 
the Duke of Orleans, the daughter-in-law of the King, that 
he had just seen ; if it was really the Duchess de Berry that, 
just now, he held on his arm, who spoke to him, she, finally, 
who abandoned her hand to kisses destined to Christine. 
Hector, immovable at tli,e sanre })lace, followed with his 
eyes the disappearing carriage, and it seemed to him that it 
was a fantastic chariot carrying a female magician. He 
looked around him as if to assure himself that he was not 
sleeping, listened to the thousand confused noises which 


270 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


rose up from the Cours la Reine, touched witli his elbow the 
passers-by who were regaining the city and made some 
steps at random to again unite himself to the sentiment of 
reality which was abandoning him. What might be the re- 
sult of an adventure which capricious fortune, still more 
than his will, had brought about ? How was that love, of 
which the Duchess de Berry had accepted the expression, 
going to result ? Toward what unexpected events w^as this 
new position going to precipitate him ? The situation wms 
delicate and full of perils. These reflection and a thousand 
others of the same nature traversed the mind of Hector 
like arrows. He quitted the Cours la Reine at a slow pace 
and took the Porte St. Honore to regain M. de Riparfonds’ 
hotel. He was undecided as to w^hat resolution to adopt. 
As he was going along b,y the houses, with lowered head, a 
man who was leaving the Rue Neuve des Petit Champs ran 
up against him. 

“ Oh! diable! ” said this man tottering. 

“ What does that mean, rascal ? ” exclaimed Hector rais- 
ing his eyes. 

But at the first glance he recognized Brother Jean and 
stopped himself. 

“ Parbleu! I was going to see you,” said the employee of 
M. d’Argenson. 

That is why you were making such haste then ? ” 

“ I was pressed for time.” 

“Bah! the Chevalier.” 

“ He is about to leave.” 

“He must be prevented from doing so.” 

“It is for that purpose I have come.— We are upon his 
track.” 

“Coquelicot has spoken ? ” 

“No, but he has drank, and that is quite as good.” 

“ What has he said ? ” 

“ Nothings which would be lost for others, but which for 
a clever man are treasures. — We know the hours at which 
the Chevalier and he are accustomed to see each other; we 
also know that he watches carefully a certain gentleman 
wliom it seems to me resembles you.” 

“ I have an idea that this gentleman will cut off Coqueli- 
cot’s ears.” 


“ And Coquelicot will only get what he deserves.” 

Now that he was face to face with a violent and determ- 
ined battle, life and will returned through every pore to 
Hector’s heart. He shook off the dreams which possessed 
him as a strong bull shakes off the insects which attach 
themselves to his skin. 


“ What I need at present is the pass-word ; but I will have 
this word to-morrow,” said Brother Jean. 

“ Do you.believe that Coquelicot will push indiscretion so 
far?” 

“ What wine does not obtain, the poniard does.” _ 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


271 


“Brother Jean! ” 

“Eh! mordieu! Monsieur, dismiss 5 ^our scruples. Does 
one discuss with wolves. And then I ‘know the man : when 
he feels the point of the steel, he will speak like a young 
girl at confession.” 

Hector no longer made objections, reserving to himself 
the right to intervene if Hector pushed his arguments too 
far. 

“ To-morrow is the time then ?” 

“Yes, to-morrow and if it pleases God, we will stifle 

the fox in his den.” 

“ It is useless to warn M. de Eourquevaux,” Brother Jean 
, resumed, “he is too impetuous for expeditions which must 
be conducted discreetly. Coq-Heron alone will suffice.” 

“Well!” 

“ On my part, I will take Biscot. Coq-Heron and Biscot 
— I know how to use them. Moreover it does not suit for 

me to come to seek you at the hotel our going out might 

awaken the suspicions of those unknown friends of which 
the poets speak, and which the Chevalier perhaps attaches 
to our steps.” 

“Always precautions, as formerly.” 

“ Always You will leave on horseback with Coq- 

H4ron, like honest gentlemen going to the Helds to take the 
fresh air. You will push on at a gallop over the route to 
Marly ; after which, you will return by the Porte St. Jacques 
to gain the Place de I’Estrapade.” 

“ What a detour! ” 

“ It is connected with a geometrical axiom which I have 
invented for my particular use.” 

“ Let us have the axiom.” 

“The shortest way from one point to another is tl^ 

curve line.” 

“Good!” said Hector laughing; “and when the curve 
line shall have conducted me to the Place de I’Estrapade, 
what shall I do ? ” 

“You will seek the Ange Gardien. That is the sign of 
the cabaret where men of my class gather together. The 
proprietor of the cabaret is thoroughly devoted to me, and 
we will make our little arrangements there.” 

“At what hour?” 

“ Toward sunset. It is the hour when night birds awake, 
and that is the time the Chevalier expects Coquelicot. 

“Then, at nightfall, upon the Place de TEstrapade, at the 
sign of the Ange Gardien agreed.” 

“And you will see,” said Brother Jean, “ how falcons of 
my species strangle owls.” 


272 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


CHAPTEK XLI. 

A GHOST. 

At twilight the next day, Hector, followed by Coq-Heron. 
left Paris on horseback, ran at a gallop for some minutes 
over the road, then turned back and gained the Porte St. 
Jacques through the helds. They arrived at the Place de 
I’Estrapade, and soon discovered the cabaret of the Ange 
Gardien, where Brother Jean, in coihpaoy with Biscot was 
waiting for them. There were a dozen suspicious looking . 
individuals in the hall. Some of them glanced at M. de 
Chavailles and Coq-Heron, but not one of them budged ; 
alone. Brother Jean, seated near the door, rose up. 

“ Come this way,” he cried to them climbing a 'wooden 
stairway at the end of the hall ; “ we have matters to talk 
over, and the cabaretier’s wine will refresh our ideas.” 

They followed Brotlier Jean and entered a room where, 
upon a large table, clothes of every species were displayed. 

“Here,” said the hermit, “ are clothes enough to dress 
us all.” 

“Hum!” said Coq-Heron, “is it carnival time that we 
should disguise ourselves ? ” 

“The time makes no difference. You are going now, if 
you please, to choose here what is necessary to you, and we 
wull leave for the ambuscade.” 

Coq-Heron shook his head and declared that he had not 
the least desire to exchange his cassock of an honest soldier 
for that of some bandit. 

“ Coq-Heron is right,” said Hector tranquilly. “In these 
sorts of affairs, it is best not to oppose any one ; but as his 
presence might cause the expedition to fail, he will wait for 
us here; the house and wine are good.” 

Coq-Heron made no reply, bit his mustache and suddenly 
took up a coat of green cloth. Each one chose what he 
liked : Hector and Brother Jean accommodated themselves 
with the clothes of two soldiers of fortune. Biscot donned 
the outfit of a lackey. All of them wore large hats and 
strong leather belts from which hunglorjg swords. Brother 
Jean had also brought a collection of false beards and wigs 
which he distributed to his companions. 

“Now, let us leave, if you please, messieurs,” said 

Brother Jean “The comedy is about to begin; it is at 

present only a question of playing the piece weil.” 

They pushed on in the direction of the Rue de I’Arbaiae, 
and, as they went along, the hermit explained hisproieetto 
M. de Chavailles. 

“ I know Coquelicot’s habits,” said he; “at the stroke of 
seven, 5mu will see him turn the corner of The street ; he 
carries the pojnt of his sword in the air like a captain. At 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


273 


some steps from this corner, there is a somber porch under 
which we shall wait for him.” 

“Good! and as he passes we. shall take liim by the 
throat,” said Coq-H6ron. 

“ Well 1 but what next ? ” asked Hector. 

“When we have gap^ged our man, we will transport him 
on our shoulders and bring him back to the Ange Gardien, 
Avhere he will have leisure to await the end of the expedi- 
tion.” 

They arrived at the porch indicated by Brother Jean. 
Coq-Heron and Biscot placed themselves’in the neighbor- 
hood to keep away meddlers, and Brother Jean hid under 
the porch, in the obscurest place, as did M. de Chavailies. 
When seven o’clock struck at the Sorbonne, the outline of 
a man appeared at the corner of the Rue des Charbonniers. 
Brother Jean nudged Hector with his elbow and half rose 
up.^ Hector imitated him and let fall his cloak which in- 
convenienced his movements. Coquelicot — for it was he — 
walked firmly and whistled between his teeth. One of his 
hands was in his pocket, where could be heard the rattle of 
money. 

“ My faith ! ” murmured Brother Jean, “ he has been paid 
in advance; he will not be robbed.” 

When the rascal had passed by the porch without sus- 
pecting the danger which threatened him. Brother Jean 
silently rose up, bounded like a wolf, artd taking Coquelicot 
by the throat, threw him to the ground before he could even 
utter a cry. Coquelicot struggled like a wild beast; but 
the iron hand of the hermit held him to the earth. 

“Come!” Brother Jean said to him, “if you struggle 
any longer, I shall strangle you.” 

And, joining gesture to menace, he squeezed Coquelicot’s 
neck till his face took on a violet tinge. Biscot and Coq- 
Heron were at the prisoner’s side, with torches in their 
hands; Hector was standing in front with crossed arms. 
Coquelicot understood that all resistance was impossible, 
and suddenly became as immovable as a log. 

“ Well! ” said Brother Jean, “ this fellow has some intel- 
ligence and we can do something with him. Tie his feet 
and gag him.” 

“Oh! if he cries out, we will cut his throat,” said Coq- 
Horon. 

The operation finished, Coquelicot was placed upon Bis- 
cot’s shoulders, and the little troop regained the Ange Gar- 
dien. A great cloak thrown over the" prisoner’s body con- 
cealed him from the looks of the rare passers of the quar- 
ter by giving him the appearance of a bundle of goods. The 
cabaretier conducted the troop to the room which they had 
quitted an hour previous. He then looked steathily at the 
living burden which Biscot bore, blinked his eyes and 
descended the stairway without speaking, like a nian who 
18 


274 


TEE BOYAL CHASE. 


has already too many affairs of his own without embarrass- 
ing himself with those of others. 

The hermit approached Coqnelicot and took out his gag, 
which was stilling him. Coq-Heron untied Coquelicot’s 
feet. Coquelicot then sat down upon a chair and looked 
around as if seeking a means of escape. 

“Oh!” said Brother Jean whom nothing escaped, “do 
not attempt to fly if you value your skin.” 

Coquelicot looked at his interlocutor with a curious air. 

“ If you desire a closer acquaintance with me, I consent to 
it,” added the hermit. 

He took off his false beard, his wig, and showed his naked 
head to Coquelicot. 

“ Brother Jean! ” exclaimed the prisoner leaping to his 
feet. 

“ Now that you know me, you will answer my questions.” 

“ That depends,” re])lied Coquelicot. 

“ Listen,” said Brother Jean, “you are paid by the Chev- 
alier de St. Clair, or Maitre Pierre Simon, as you wish, who 
lives near here in the Rue de T Arbalete, in order to spy on 
M. de Chavailles, who is present here. You conscientiously 
discharge your functions, and each day you render an ac- 
count to the Chevalier of the result of your observations. 
Now, we know what the Chevalier is capable of, and since 
he has chosen you, it means that he has need of an unscrupu- 
lous rascal. You pl6t together some abominable action, and 
it was something connected with this plot that drew you to 
the Boi David this evening to visit the Chevalier.” 

“ But if you know our affairs so well, why do you question 
me ?” demanded Coquelicot. 

“The question comes from a judicious mind. The reason 
is that it is no easy matter to penetrate to the Chevalier’s 
apartment. But there is a pass-word, a magic formula for 
opening all doors, and you know this formula.” 

“Well! supposing I keep silence.” 

“My faith! I have here six inches of good steel, and I 
would be forced to seek your secret in your throat.” 

Coquelicot grew pale. 

“An assassination! ” he exclaimed. 

Brother Jean shrugged his shoulders. 

“ No, a suicide! it is you who have willed it.” 

Coquelicot looked around him ; Coq-Heron, Biscot and M. 
de Chavailles were mute. • 

“I will speak,” exclaimed Coquelicot. 

“Proceed to do so,” replied Brother Jean. 

“ You wish the pass-w’ord ? ” said Coquelicot. 

“ Neither more, nor less.” 

“Well! you shall have it.” 

“ Spare yourself the trouble of deceiving us,” said Brother 
Jean interrupting Coquelicot, “ we are going to leave you 
here in safe hands, If you lie, at my return I will make 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


275 


'you take a bath in the Seine, and this bath will be your 
last.” 

This was said with an air which made Coquelicot trem- 
ble. 

“ Oh! ” said he, “I do not intend to deceive you.” 

“We shall see. Speak now.” 

“ When you come to the door of the Roi David, you will 
ask to speak to Maitre Pierre Simon. The proprietor will 
then come forward. He will salute you and say nothing. 
‘ Monsieur,’ you will say to him, ‘ desire to see Maitre 
Pierre Simon on matters which concern the Baron de 
Klein.’” 

“ We know that.” 

“ The name is nothing, it is the manner of pronouncing it 
which is everything.” 

“Let us have the manner.” 

“ While talking you will slip into the hand of the inn- 
keeper the piece of money which you will find in my 
pocket.” 

Brother Jean fumbled in Coquelicot’s pocket and drew 
from it an Austrian ducat stamped with the effigy of the 
Emperor and pierced by four holes. 

“Is that all ? ” said Brother Jean. 

“ No! When you have given him the ducat, you will say 
to him in a low voice: Vienne. He will reply : Paris, and 
you will enter.” 

“To work then, and let us readjust our disguises,” said 
Brother Jean joining action to speech. 

As he went out, he turned to Coquelicot. 

“In an hour or two, we will return; you will then have 
twenty gold pieces or six inches of steel.” 

They left Coquelicot under the surveillance of the cabare- 
tier, and took their way to the Rue de I’Arbal^te. A torch 
hanging before the sign of the Roi David, indicated the door 
of the hostelry. 

“ Now, Monsieur le Marquis, let us form our plans,” said 
Brother Jean. “We cannot all enter; our numbers might 
excite some suspicion, and besides it is prudent to guard 
every issue.” 

“That is just,” said Hector, “Coq-H6ron will guard the 
door.” 

“ As to Biscot, he will follow me,” continued Brother 
Jean. “I have remarked that back of the inn there are 
large gardens. A little door is at one of the corners of these 
gardens. It is easy to escape that w’ay— I wish to station 
Biscot there.” 

Brother Jean left with his comrades. He returned in a few 
minutes. 

“Biscot is in the garden under an elm,” said he, “and I 
defy anyone, even were it Beelzebub in person, to make a 
step without being seen.” 

“ Coq-H6ron was placed at a corner of the street from 


27G 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


which it was easy to watch the door'of the inn, and M. de 
Ciiavailles and Brother Jean, rolled up in their cloaks, 
struck at the door of the Boi David. The host answered 
their call and everything passed off as Coqiielicot had pre- 
dicted it would. , The sight of the piece of money pierced 
witli four holes and the pass- word murmured softly in the 
ear of the little man worked like a charm. The innkeeper 
took up a flambeau and asked the two cavaliers to follow 
him. They ascended a stairway and entered upon a long 
corridor. The innkeeper stopped about the middle of the 
corridor, and pointing out to them a door, he said : 

“ Strike three blow^s.” 

Hector did so. The moving of furniture was to be heard 
and presently a voice from the inside said : 

“Enter! ” 

Tlie innkee|)er discreetly withdrew^ Hector pushed open 
the door and entered, followed by brother Jean. A man 
was seated before a table writing, his back turned to the 
door. 

“ Sit dowm, I will be through soon,” said he. 

Hector recognized the Chevalier and bolted the door. As 
he did so the Chevalier rose up. Hector uttered a terrible 
cry and recoiled. He had before him the Abbe Hernandez. 


CHAPTEK XLII. 

A DEATH BLOW. 

The three actors of this scene remained for some moments 
terrified in each others’ presence. Hector snatched off his 
disguise, and showed his face to the Abbe, w’ho grew’ pale at 
the sight of it. Finally Hector gave vent to the feelings 
which agitated his heart. 

“ The Abb5 Hermandez! ” he exclaimed. 

“Yes,” replied the Abb6, already master of himself. 

“ Brother Jean ! ” exclaimed Hector, “ close the doors and 
bar the windows, this man belongs to me.” 

The hermit drew his large sword and, having done as 
Hector ordered, took his stand tw’o steps from the Abb4. 

“ Two against one,” said the Abbe; “ the part is worthy 
of a gentleman.” 

“ Oh! you well know that I fight alone? ” replied Hector 
without noticing the expression of profound irony w'hich 
tinged the Chevalier’s wmrds. 

“ So I see ! ” said the Abbe, throwing a glance of scorn to- 
w^ard Brother Jean. 

“ That man is thereto keep you from flying.” 

“ How do you know I desire to do so ? ” said the Abb4. 

“Oh! I put no dependence in that; therefore I watch 
you V ” 

“ You are going to kill me ? ' 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


277 


“I hope so,” said Hector, drawing his sword. 

The Chevalier who sSemed to be examining the mutual 
position of the Marquis and Brother Jean, did not imitate 
him, though his sword, lying upon the table, was in reach 
' of his hand. 

” Well! ” said Hector, “ have you understood me ? ” 

“Oh! there is no hurry.” 

“ How do I know but what in an hour you might escape 
me ? ” said Hector making some steps forward ; “ how do I 
know but what there is a secret door close about through 
which you may escape ? ” 

“ Since you insist on a duel, I consent.” 

“It is a consent with which I can afford to dispense,” 
said Hector. 

“ I know your methods, Monsieur le Marquis, and if need 
be, you will replace duel by assassination.” 

It was clear that the Chevalier wished to gain time ; but, 
nevertheless, his ej^es sought nothing ; he did not wear an 
air of attention, like a man who expects his deliverance fiiom 
the outside ; they did not see him consult a little clock upon 
the mantel, and nevertheless his attitude, the measured 
slowness of his words, his seeming insensibility to the in- 
cessant provocations of M. de Chavailles, all indicated a 
well defined project to drag explanations to an inordinate 
length. Hector was standing before the Chevalier, and 
looking fixedly at him. 

“ Living! he living! ” he kept on repeating. 

Suddenly the Chevalier seized the sword which was lying 
upon the table, and exclaimed : 

“ Well ! must I recall to you what brings you here ? ” 

Hector made a stride forward. 

“ Come on then ! ” he exclaimed. 

The Chevalier advanced three steps, and placed himself 
in front of the Marquis. Their swords encountered each 
other at the same moment. At the first passes it was easy 
to understand that the Chevalier had fortified himself in the 
art of fencing; but neither his feints nor the rapidity of his 
attacks, could surprise Hector. At the sight of that skill, 
the hermit paled for a moment, but he soon breathed on 
recognizing the superiority of the Marquis. Twice Hector’s 
sword tore the Abbe’s clothing. The hermit carressed his 
beard and mentally calculated the distance which separated 
the Chevalier from the w^all. 

“ Five steps more,” thought ho, “and he is dead.” 

Suddenly the Chevalier brought his foot down violently, 
the floor opened and M. de Chavailles disappeared in a 
black and gaping abyss. The hermit uttered a cry and ^ 
bounded toward the Marquis; but the Chevalier, giving 
Brother Jean a sudden shove, precipitated him into the 
hole. The Chevalier stamped his foot a second time, and, 
gliding anew upon its invisible hinges, the trap-door 
adapted itself to its original position. The Chevalier then 


278 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


picked up a pair of long pistols which he stuck in his belt, 
ran to the window, and leaped froni'thence into the garden. 
At the moment when the trap closed upon them Hector and 
Brother Jean found themselves in a complete obscurity. 
Slightly bruised, but without any wound, the Marquis and 
the hermit rose up at the same time. 

“ Are you dead ? ” asked the hermit. 

“ No, pardieu! And you ? ” replied Hector. 

“ I have some bruises, but that is all.*’ 

“ Then let us seek an outlet.” 

They drew their swords to sound the shadows, and felt 
their way along. 

“Morbleu!” exclaimed Brother Jean, “is it written on 
high that this rascal shall always escape us ? ” 

“ Coq-Heron and Biscot are still left,” replied Hector. 

“I knew,” said the hermit, “that an infernal use was 
concealed under that extraordinary desire to light.” 

As they were walking in this opaque darkness, a distant 
noise, like that of a detonation, startled them. Brother 
Jean seized Hector’s arm. 

‘%Did you hear that ? ” said he. 

“ Yes.” 

“A shot has been fired.” 

“So it seems to me.” 

“ A pistol shot.” 

“ I believe so.” 

“Some one is dead perhaps. Which one of the three— 
Biscot, Coq-H4ron, or the Chevalier ? ” 

“If he has killed Coq-Heron, he shall die a thousand 
deaths!” exclaimed Hector. 

Finally they encountered a wall and, in one corner, some 
planks through the fissures in which came a breath of fresh 
air. 

“ It is a door,” they cried together. 

They burst open this door and, wuth swords unsheathed, 
rushed up a steep stairway, at the top of which they had to 
deinolish a second door. They then found themselves in 
an interior court open on all sides, entered a corridor and 
encountered at its extremity Coq-H^ron, who came up drag- 
ing the host with one hand and brandishing his sword with 
the other. 

“Mordieu! you live!” exclaimed Coq-Heron letting go 
of the trembling innkeeper. 

“ Yes,” replied Brother Jean. “ But what have you done 
with the Chevalier.” 

“You have not killed him ? ” 

“No.” 

• “ And I have not seen him.” 

“ To the garden,” cried M. de Chavailles. 

The three adventurers ran toward the garden. A pro- 
found silence reigned there; no other noise was to be heard 
but the solitary note of an owl hidden in the foilage. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


279 


“Eh! Biscot! here we are,” cried Brother Jean. 

The voice was lost in space and died away like an echo. 

“ He sletii^s perhaps,” said the hermit whose rough coun- 
tenance expressed a terrible anguish. 

Hector and Coq-Heron did not reply, but ran toward the 
door near which tlie iiermit had stationed Biscot. The door 
was open. Brother Jean leaped into the street and saw 
nothing. 

“Eh! Biscot! ” he again cried out in a V!>icc strangled by 
emotion. 

No one replied. 

“Perhaps Biscot is in pursuit of the Chevalier?” said 
Coq-Heron. 

Brother Jean shook his head. 

“ No,” said he ; “ one of the two has killed the other.” 

Hector, who was afraid that Biscot had robbed him of his 
vengeance, kept searching around the door. 

“Here he is! ” he suddenly exclaimed stopping underthe 
thick branches of a large ai)ple-tree. 

Brother Jean and Coq-Heron ran up. Biscot was ex- 
tended u'pon the ground, more immovable even than the 
trunk of the tree, with his head resting upon a strong root 
which projected from the ground. His hand still held the 
naked sword, a ])istol loaded and primed shone in the grass 
by the side of the sword ; but a stream of blood covered the 
face of Biscot and bathed the ground around him. Brother 
Jean knelt down and raised up the inert body of his com- 
panion. The ball had struck Biscot on the forehead, a lit- 
tle above the eyebrows; death must have been instanta- 
neous. Nevertheless the body was still warm, and large 
drops of blood, coming fronrthe wound, fell upon the root 
of the apple-tree. Brother Jean interrogated the mute 
heart of Biscot; at tlio end of a moment, he shook his head 
sadly. 

“ He is dead,” said he. 

Two tears roiled slowly down his rough brown face. 

“ He was my old comrade,” the hermit continued. “ You 
knew him at the Tower of Mont Ventoux, M. le Marquis. 
Poor Biscot! He was a sheep for patience, a dog for devo- 
tion ; he would have thrown himself into the fire for me. — 
He never spoke, and I reprimanded him often, but I loved 
him. — For twenty years we lived side by side, — He walked 
in my shadow. — Now, it is finished. — Poor Biscot! ” 

Brother Jean was silent and bit .his lips to stifle a sob 
which was rising in his throat. Hector and Coq-Hcron said 
nothing; presently, the hermit embraced the pale face of 
Biscot and laid him back upon tlie grass, after which, bath- 
ing his fingers in the blood boiling around the wound, he 
shook them in the air, and said : 

“By this blood which reddens my hand I swear to avenge 
you.” 


280 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


Hector and Coq-Heron uncovered themselves. Brother 
Jean dried his hand in the grass and rose up. 

“Let us get away from here, messieurs,” said he; “the 
dead are dead.” 


CHAPTER XLIII. 

THE ETOtLE DES FAUNES. 

When M. de Chavailles reappeared at Marly, his thoughts, 
a moment distracted by the Hood of events, naturally re- 
turned to the Duchesse de Berry. The moment when she 
had promised to see him again was drawing near; did Hec- 
tor long for it or fear it? To tell the truth,'he did not know 
himself. There was a hunt the next day. Hector had not 
taken part in the hunts since his return to court; a thou- 
sand circumstances had prevented him from doing so; to- 
day everything seemed to be propitious to his going. A 
strange accident had willed, tliough the season was not yet 
far advanced, that the weather should be gray and melan- 
choly as on the day of his first hunt. The same fog ex- 
tended its floating folds over the country, more sad than a 
widow surrounded by her long veils of mourning; the wan- 
dering vapors glided along the sides of the hills, suspended 
themselves to the branches of the trees, and covered with 
tears the trembling and jflaintive lea.ves. The aspect of the 
landscape, which no ray of sunsliine enlivened, augumented 
the mournful reverie in which Hector’s mind took ])leasure ; 
he had kept in liis heart the recollection of the emotions 
which agitated him during that first hunt in which so much 
happiness welcomed him. In the mean time the company 
of hunters had gathered together and the Duchesse de 
Berry soon apjieared. She rode a Spanish genet white as 
snow, which pranced proudly under its light burden. The 
Princess, young, beautiful, and impetuous as Diana the 
Huntress, handled it with wonderful grace; the horse 
champed its bit, and bounded impatiently under the caress- 
ing hand which held it. A murmur of admiration saluted 
her presence; she bowed slightly and looked around for M. 
de Chavailles. That look made Hector tremble as at the 
shock of an electric spark. He rode his horse up close to 
her. 

’ “ What do you presage as to this hunt? ” said she with a 
marked intention. 

“You are here, ]\[adame, and your presence is more than 
a hope — it is a guarantee of success.” 

The Princess caressed the genet’s mane with her hand. 

“Therefore,” said she, “ you attribute to me a sovereign 
influence and you believe tlnat we shall succeed ? 

“ Eh! Madame, accidei^t itself is at your orders.” 

“ You flatter me; but T forewarn you, that the hunt will 
be, I believe, fertile in incidents.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


1281 


“ So much the better.” 

“ You are ready then to affront them all ? ” 

“I am ready,” replied Hector. 

““Well! follow my white plume, you will always find it 
upon the road to happiness.” 

She let the reins fall and her horse crossed the circle of 
courtiers in four bounds. Hector followed with his looks 
the long white plumes which undulated upon the hat of the 
Duchesse de Berry. Her face shone with the light of 
triumph. 

“Is it the past which is going away? is it the future 
which is beginning? ” said he in a low tone. 

The unknown opened its mysterious perspectives before 
his imagination. That charming and perfidious unknown, 
which had been the master of his life — was it going, once 
again, to draw him into its capricious but seductive paths. 
But the huntsmen sounded their horns, the valets had 
just uncoupled the dogs, the chase was launched in the 
long avenues, and M. de Chavailles disappeared in the 
train of this tempest of men and of horses." A slight wind 
stirred the branches of the trees and sometimes parted the 
veils of mist. At such times dogs were seen running with 
furious zeal, caleches flying in the footsteps of the stag; 
then, all at once, the chase was engulfed in the fog, and, of 
the fantastic apparition, nothing remained except the distant 
sound of the horns. At other times, a ray of sunshine 
pierced tlie curtain of wandering vapors and illuminated a 
patch of forest ; a thousand drops of water scintillated like 
Jewels among the green branches; the silvery trunks of the 
birch-trees shone in the clearings; but a puff of wind came 
which brought back the fog, and the light was extinguished. 

“ All this resembles life,” said Hector; “ sometimes radi- 
ant and sometimes obscure ; — hope shines, which fills our 
soul with rays, then comes despair which gives it a wind- 
ing sheet.” 

Paul Emile, who was galloping by Hector’s side, listened 
to him with a mocking air. 

“ If you are not the most cunning of courtiers,” said he, 
“you are the most ungrateful of men.” 

“ And why ? ” asked Hector. 

“ I will explain later on ; at present, reply, I pray you ; 
franklv and without reservation.” 

“Willingly.” 

“ Whenever my presence proves embarrassing to you, 
send me away.” 

Hector looked fixedly at IM. de Eourquevaux. 

“Ah! ” said he, “ you believe that things have gone that 
far.” 

“I do, my friend. I have heard nothing, but one does 
not need ears to undei-stand the significance of certain 
movements and the mute language of the eyes.” 

“ You are a terrible in an.” 


282 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“I am clear-sighted, aad that is all. Yes, 1113^ dear 
Marquis, we touch at the fifth act of the comed3\” 

Hector was going to rei)Iy when the Duchesse de Berry 
passed before them. She raised her head at the sight of the 
two gentlemen, saluted them witli her hand and entered a 
narrow avenue which jed into the depth of the forest. 

“Eh! ” said Paul Emile, “when one seeks people in the 
singular, one does not like to encounter them in the plural. — 
Adieu, I am going to fly.” 

Before M. de Chavailles could say a word, Paul Emile 
had turned his horse around and was making off in another 
direction. Hector looked around him. The fog was slightly 
dissipated; the chase was going in the distance over the 
route to Aricie; but the undulation of the white plumes of 
the Duchesse de Berry was still to be seen at the end of the 
path on which she had entered. Hector urged on his horse. 
It was less the impulse of a personal desire which drew 
Hector to the Duchesse de Benw, than the influence of a 
mysterious attraction. The Princess’ had checked her 
course, and was waiting for Hector who rejoined her in 
some bounds.' At a hundred steps behind them was to be 
heard the gallop of the pages and officers of her household. 
She bowed to Hector as he came up. , ^ 

“ In an hour,” said she, “ be at the Etoiie des Eaiines.” 

“ I shall be there,” replied Hector. 

“Alone!” 

“ Alone.” 

A page appeared before them. 

“M. de Vareuil,” said she in a soft voice, “ will you ex- 
amine Actaeon^s curb ; I believe it is out of order.” 

The page leaped down and ran to the horse. The curb 
was in' its place, as one may well imagine; 

“Your highness can be tranquil,” said the page raising 
his' head, “ Actaeon is well restrained.” 

“(Thanks, Monsieur,” replied the Duchess with the most 
gracious of smiles. 

The page saluted and remounted his horse. The Duchess 
caressed Actaeon’s neck with her hand. 

“ This horse will carry me,” she said in a low voice with 
her looks turned toward M. de Chavailles. 

These words with so clear a significance caused Hector’s 
heart to beat rapidly ; Hector no longer listened except to 
the voice of his 3^outh and abandoned himself entirely to 
the inexplicable charm which the Duchess possessed for 
him. 

“ Eh! Madame, do not restrain him then,” said he beside 
himself. 

The noise of the' hunt resounded under the vault of the 
great oaks. 

“To the chase, messieurs,” suddenlv exclaimed the 
Duchesse de Berry. 

She rode rapidly off, and though Hector followed her for 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


283 


% 


some time he soon lost sight of her. After mixing with 
various groups, he finally took his way to the Etoile des 
Faunes. This spot was situated in an obscure part of the 
forest. It would be purely accidental if those following the 
chase should pass in the neighborhood of it. M. de Cha- 
vailles galloped till he reached the Etoile des Faunes. A 
confused murmur, often troubled by the shrill noise of 
horns, alone indicated the route which the chase had taken. 
Hector stopped the course of his horse and waited impa- 
tiently for the appearance of the Duchess. A thousand in- 
expressible sensations agitated M. de Chavailles, but each 
minute that fiowed away served to calm him. The soft 
and mysterious charm of solitude made its influence felt. 
He took off his hat and bared his head to the breeze. In- 
voluntary tremblings agitated him at the least noise which 
he heard. Did he desire or fear the presence of the Duch- 
esse de Berry ? His reveries were suddenly interrupted by 
the gallop of a horse which was approaching. Soon the 
phantom of a horse bearing a woman w^as vaguely outlined 
among the vapors which were spread in the forest. Hector 
ran toward this apparition and strained his eyes to decide 
who it was. His heart throbbed rapidly. It was indeed the 
Duchesse de Berry. Some bounds brought her to him. 
An extraordinary animation lit up her charming features. 
She threw a look behind her and extended her hand to 
Hector with a movement full of grace. Hector bow’ed over 
this hand and kissed it. 

“ Have I kept my promise ? ” said the Duchess. 

“Oh! Madame, what have I done to merit so much kind- 
ness! ” exclaimed M. de Chavailles. 

“ The question is not as to whether you merit it; — it suf- 
fices that I am pleased.” 

“ Listen,” she resumed while M. de Chavailles covered 
her hand with kisses, “ they have lost track of me, but they 
may find it again.— You are going to do what I tell you ” 

“ My life belongs to you, Madame.” 

“And that is why I dispose of it— Chut! ” said she inter- 
rupting him.— “Do you' hear nothing.” 

Hector listened. The gallop of several horses resounded 
in the depth of the ’woods, but nothing was to be seen. 
Twice however, it appeared to them that a vague silhouette 
rapidly traversed the paths wdiich led through the forest. 

“ They are seeking me,” continued the Duchess, “let us 
leave this spot.” 

Hector and his companion urged their horses toward the 
trees, whose cover offered them a friendly shelter. 

“We have not a moment to lose,” said she laughing. 
“ It is no longer the stag which they pursue ; it is the hind.” 

“ What must I do ? Speak.” 

“Have a post-chaise ready for to-morrow.” 

“I will.” 

“Let it be harnessed at eleven o’clock, and stationed at 


284 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 




the eud of the Avenue de Picardie. You will be at the 
jjoriUre, in a gray cloak, without a feather on your hat, 
without a scarf, without a knot of ribbon. A woman will 
descend from the chaise at the end of the avenue, you will 
go straight to her and throw her in the carriage. — This 
woman will be myself.” 

“An elopement!— But your rank, the distance which 
separates us. Have you thought of that, Madame ? ” 

“ I have thought of it. But I love you, j^ou love me, and 
that suffices to overcome all objections.” 

Hector was about to reply, when the Duchess pointed in 
the direction of the Avenue des Buttes. A black point was 
visible there, flying with the rapidity of a stone launched 
by a sling. 

“Some one is coming,” said she, “ M. de Vareuil perhaps. 
Till to-morrow!— Adieu.” 

The Duchess left the woods and went to meet M. de 
Vareuil, who was coming at a headlong pace. But he was 
too far off to recognize Hector and his companion. From 
his retreat Hector could see the Duchess stop the young 
cavalier and disappear with him. As soon as he had lost 
sight of them, he gave himself up to the astonishment ex- 
cited in him by the last words of the Duchess. 

“An elopement— it is indeed an elopement.” 

Passionate, he would have found paradise in this per- 
spective open to his love; he saw there nothing but an 
abyss. Suddenly his horse, which was grazing, raised its 
head and neighed loudly. Hector looked and saw a woman 
on horseback come out of the fog. Vertigo took possession 
of Hector, he opened his arms, and the name of Christine 
expired upon his lips. 


CHAPTEK XLIV. 

ONE OR THE OTHER. 

After the first delicious moments given to the joy of re- 
union, Hector and Christine left together. 

“ You are now free ? ” Hector said- as they rode along. 

It must be so since I am with you.” 

“ How was your deliverance brought about ? ” 

“ Cydalise came to Chevreuse yesterday. ‘ We are saved,’ 
said she, ‘ I have found a retreat for you.’ ” 

“ Oh ! I understand— Madame d’Argenton’s hunting pa- 
vilion.” 

“Precisely. So to-day being the Tenth of October I 
wished to give you half of my happiness and I have 
come.” 

“But,” said he, “how have you discovered this chase ? ” 

“ Hope was my guide and you see tliat I have done well 
to follow" itj since it has led me to you,” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


285 


“ But,” said Hector, “ might not some one meet you and 
betray you.” 

“Eh! who knows me at court? The Chevalier does not 
go there, I imagine.” 

“I do not know as to that,” 

“ What! ” said Mile, de Blettarius shivering, “ you believe 
that that man ” 

“ I believe nothing, Christine, but from tliat man I fear 
everything.” 

The horses ran side by side and snatched at the grass as 
they went along. Hector and Christine left the wood 
through the Porte de la Breteche, and gained the plain on 
the side of St. Nonu, The pavilion which the Countess d’- 
Argenton had ceded to M, de Chavailies for his protegees was 
situated some distance from the forest, upon the slope of a 
hillock shaded bj" a circle of old trees, a little behind St 
Nonu and in front of Chavenay. It was a pretty building, 
simple and rustic on the outside, coquettish and charming 
wuthin.' 

M. de Blettarius and Cydalise were waiting for Christine 
before the door; when they saw her approaching accom- 
panied by Hector, the old man rose up and Cydalise ran to- 
ward them. After M. de Blettarius had embraced the gen- 
tleman whom he called his son, Cydalise drew M. de 
Chavailies to one side. 

“ I have nothing more to do here,” said she, “ and I am 
going away.” 

Already! ” replied Hector taking her hands. 

“ Has not the comedy its last act ? ” 

“Hum! something is still lacking.” 

“ The marriage ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“That is a denouement which will come at its time! it is 
not new ; but since you insist on it ” 

“Strongly!” 

“ Ingrate! ” said the comedienne threatening him with 
the end of her finger, “ but I love you, and will not take 
vengeance on you for your frankness.” 

“ You speak like a devil, but you a.ct like an angel.” 

“You say that to engage me to be brief; well, I will be 
so. I have drawn the sheep fivun the throat of the wolf, but 
the wolf may reappear and ] aml)le around the fold. Watch 
well!” 

“The Duke of Orleans has promised to interest himself in 
the fate of Mile, de Blettarius— I will recall it to him.” 

“Then do it at once.” 

Hector pressed the hand of Cydalise. 

“ One word more,” said the comedienne as she was about 
to retire. 

“Speak.” 

“If M. de Eourquevaux asks you how I have discovered . 


286 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


Mile, de Blettariiis’ retreat, tell him that you kuow nothiug 
about it.” 

“ Tliat will be the truth.” 

“ Well! that is all I ask of you.” 

Thereupon Cydalise leaped into a chaise which was wait- 
ing for her and moved away. Hector sj)ent some time with 
his friends and quitted them in the evening to return to 
Marly, where he hoped to meet the Duke of Orleans. The 
Prince was in the gallery wliere the play was going on, los- 
ing his louis to the Dauphiness. Hector waited a moment 
and then seized an opportunity to draw him to one side. 

“ Mile, de Blettarius is in the retreat which Mme. d’Ar- 
genton’s kindness has provided for her,” said he. 

“ Eh! you liave not lost any time,” replied the Duke. 

“ I lose nothing. Monseigneur, not even memory.” 

The Prince raised his piercing eyes to M. de Chavailles. 

“ Tliat is to say, ’’said he smiling, that I have made you 
a promise and that 3*011 desire to recall it to me.” 

“I will irever dare to do so, unless Your Highness gives 
me ])ermission.” 

“ I will do better — I will recollect it m3^self. It concerns 
Mile, de Blettarius’ father, I believe.” 

“ Y'es, Monseigneur.” 

“ You have asked me to speak to the King and I have 
promised you to address m3'self to a person more powerful 
than I.” 

“That is quite true.” 

“ Well! Monsieur le Marquis, I have done so.” 

“ What! you have deigned ” 

“ The occasion has offered itself this evening — I have 
seized it — this all-powerful person has listened tome, and in 
some time I shall m3*self present you to him, but before 
acting he has wished to gatlier some information as to the 
part which M. de Blettarius took in the troubles of the 
Fronde.” 

“ My God! Monseigneiir, how can I thank you ? ” 

“Love me a little, if that is possible, and believe onl}" half 
the evil that is said of me.” 

The Duke of Orleans pushed on toward a group of 
seigneurs and left M. de Chavailles alone. The galleiy was 
full of people talking, playing, walking. But the noise did 
not reach Hector’s ears, and Uis eyes saw nothing of the 
spectacle which surrounded him. Paul Emile passed by, 
and seeing him alone approached. 

“ How sad you are! ” he said to him. 

“I! ” said Hector, suddenly awakened from his reverie. 

“ Parbleu! it is not to the Grand Turk that I address my- 
self.” 

“ My faith ! my dear Count, you are not a physiognomist 
— I am very happy.” 

“Your face does not show it.” 

“ ’Tis because happiness is grave, my friend.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


287 


Paul fimile siglied. 

“That explains to me why happiness and I get along so 
badly together. — My sadness comes from my gayety.” 

A movement in the gallery broke off the conversation of 
the two young people ; it Avas the moment of the King’s sup- 
per; they rose up. The doors were^opened, and the princes 
of the blood directed their course toward the royal apart- 
ment. Paul Emile and Hector mixed in the crowd and 
drew near the door of exit. The Duchess de Berry sud- 
denly presented herself before M. de Ohavailles, and their 
eyes met. Those of the Princess were like diamonds. 

“Were you at the hallali, M. de Chavailles ?” said she, 
“ I did not see you there, it seems to me.” 

“It is true, Madame; I lost my way and arrived too 
late.” 

She bowed her head and passed on. 

“ Till to-morrow%” said she in a low voice. 

Hector shivered ; he had forgotten, and a word had just 
recalled everything to him. It was necessary to take his 
part at once ; as long as he believed himself free, this elope- 
ment was a folly ; now that he had found Christine again, 
it was a crime. When the last gentleman had passed out 
through the door. Hector had made his decision. Hector de- 
tained Paul Simile by the arm and drew him, without speak- 
ing, to the other extremity of the gallery. 

“You are right, my friend, I am not happy,” said he. 

“Parbleu! do not worry top much, misfortune is man’s 
habitual state,” replied Paul Emile. 

“There are misfortunes which kill.” 

“They are rare.” 

“A duel, for example.” 

“ So you are going to fight ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ What day does the fight take place ? ” 

“ To-morrow.” 

“ Well ; at what hour ? ” 

“ At day- break.” 

“Very well; where, if you please.” 

“Under the aqueduct of Marly.” 

“ May I ask the name of gentleman against whom you 
fight ? ” 

“ Comte Paul Emile de Fourquevaux.” 


CHAPTER XLV . 

THE GORDIAN KNOT. 

I\r. DE Fourquevaux recoiled in astonishment. 

“ It is against me that you fight ? ” 

“ Yes,” Hector tranqujlly replied. 

For the once, Paul Emile tliought that his friend had 
suddenly become mad. He observed him closely. 


^88 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


“You are surprised,” said Hector. 

“Very much,” replied the Count. 

“ Life is so constituted, that one never knows the evening 
before what will happen on the morrow.” 

“ Is this a pleasantry ? ” 

“No— it is very serious.” 

“ You insist on our fighting each other ? ” 

“ I insist on it.” 

“Will you tell me why you are going to oblige me to 
commence again the episode at Turin ? ” 

“With pleasure, but the place is not propitious; you 
know the verses of the poet : 

Even these icalls, seigneur, may have eyes ! 

With your permission, we shall go elsewhere.” 

“Willingly.” 

The two young men descended to the garden and stopped 
on the edge of a pond of water. 

“Do you recollect, my dear Marquis,” said Hector, 
“ what you said to me touching the Duchess de Berry ? ” 
“Parbleu! and what I have said, I maintain.” 

“ Well! my friend, you were right.” 

“So you make confession at last.” 

“ Y^es; I touch at the last chapter.” 

“ Already ! ” 

“Alas! yes.” 

“ With what an air you say that! ” 

“I should like to see you in my place.” 

“And I also.” 

Hector smiled, and Paul Emile stamped his foot. 

“All this does not tell me,” said he, “ why you wish to 
kill me.” 

“ You know that the Princess has singular fantasies, 
and, to speak your language she expects me to act as if I 
were Jupiter, and she were called Europa.” 

“ And you do not appreciate your good fortune! Parbleu! 
you are a singular man.” 

Hector looked at the stars which were reflected in the 
clear mirror of the fountains. He was dreaming, and was 
scarcely conscious of his friend’s words. It was one of those 
luminous nights which seem dedicated to poetry and to love. 

“So you are decided not to carry off the Duchess de 
Berry?” questioned Paul Emile. 

“ Thoroughly decided,” Hector coldly replied. 

“ May the shade of Scipio protect you ! I pity you.” 

“Pity me as much as you wish, but always do what I ask 
you.” 

“Ah! ah! the duel? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Let us have your reasons for it. 

“One can not carry off a princess; but it is necessary to 
have a pretext for not doing so.” ^ 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


289 


And you have found it in the duel ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“How will that serve you, if you please ? ” 

“Oh! it is very simple. I am taken between Christine 
and the Duchess as in a Gordian knot. — That which one 
can not untie ” 

“One cuts it.” 

“ Exactly ; we fight gallantly, and you give me a sword 
thrust.” 

“ But that is impossible.” 

“I will aid you.” 

“ It is clear that if you do not defend yourself ” 

“ You will be obliged to fight me.— That is all that is 
necessary to me.” 

“After?” 

“The rest takes care of itself.— Wounded, I remain in 
bed and disappear from the court — the princess forgets me, 
and when I return to Versailles, this elopement will be as 
utterly forgotten as if she had never thought of it.” 

“ You reason marvelously.” 

“ Therefore you no longer hesitate.” 

“ How could I refuse you ? ” 

“ Then I count on you.” 

“At day-break, my sword and myself will be at your 
service.” 

“ Well! Now make arrangements to have M. de Vareuil 
for your second.” 

“ The page of the Duchess de Berry.” 

“Yes. — He will guarantee the truth of the pretext.” 

“You forget nothing and commit the greatest follies the 
most seriously in the world.” 

The two young men made some steps in the direction of 
the chateau. 

“ By the way,” exclaimed Paul Emile, “if perchance the 
Princess shoiikl persist in loving you ? ” 

Hector shrugged his shoulder. 

“You know that caprices are the roses of the soul— they 
live for a morning,” said he. 

“That is true; but when you turn your back on fortune, 
it happens sometimes that it obstinately pursues you.” 

, Things passed off as they had been agreed upon. Paul 
Emile asked M. de Vareuil' to accompany him; they joined 
M. de Chavailles who was followed by an officer of the 
Guards, and the two friends met under the arcades of the 
aqueduct of Marly. They saluted each other politely and 
threw their hats upon the grass. 

“ Then you persist, M. le Marquis,” said Paul Emile with 
a superb air. 

“ You know, M. le Comte, that I never retract,” replied 
M. de Chavailles, who could hartlly keep from laughing. 

“ Then, Monsieui:, let us unsheathe.” 

Hector and Paul Emile drew their swords. 

19 


290 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


• Without rancor, M. le Comte, whatever happens,” said 
Hector extending his hand to his adversary. 

‘‘The same feeling exists on my iDart.” 

And Paul ^imile added quite low : 

“ Do not forget to be very awkward.” 

“ I will do ray best.” 

“ Parbleu! if you kill me for so foolish an affair, I would 
never console myself for it.” 

Hector smiled, and turning toward the two witnesses: 

“You know, messiers,” said he, “ the royal edicts against 
the duel; I have then no need to ask you to be discreet.” 

The two gentlemen bowed and blades were crossed at 
once. Hector defended himself enough to leave the im- 
pression that the duel was serious. After which he re- 
ceived, or to speak better let himself be given a sword 
thrust in the shoulder. The blood gushed out and M. de 
Pourquevaux broke guard. 

“ You are wounded, I believe ? ” said he.” 

“ So it seems to me— Nevertheless if you wish to con- 
tinue ” ' , 

“ No, no,” replied Paul Emile laughing, “it is not worth 
while to die for so small a thing.” 

A handkerchief was tied around the wound, and Hector 
thanked the officer of the Guards. M. de Fourquevaux 
separated from M. de Vareuil who returned to Marly, and 
the two young men mounted a carriage to go to Paris. 

“ It is your duty now,” said Hector, “ to warn the Duch- 
ess de Berry of what has happened to me.” 

“ Eh ! but, the commission is delicate.” 

“That is why I confide it to you.” 

“You are very gracious ! But what shall I say to her ? ” 

“ Whatever you wish.” 

“ That is quickly said, but very difficult to do. A pretty 
caprice was born in the heart ” 

“In the heart?” interrupted Hector with an air of 
doubt. 

“Or in the head of a pretty woman, if you wish,” said 
Paul fimile; “the locality does not concern the fantasy, 
and like a great fly which lights upon a rose, I am going to 
crush all the divine dreams of her springtime. — If per- 
chance she begins to weep, how shall I arm myself against 
her tears ? ” 

“But,” said Hector, “the fable, which you cite so com- 
placently, does not say that the abandoned Ariadne died of 
disappointment.” 

Paul flmile looked M. de Chavailles in the face. 

“Do you imagine that I am going to play the role of the 
triumphant Bach us ? ” said he. 

“ How should I know! ” 

“ See how happiness renders you sceptical and credulous 
at the same time! Lover of Mile, de Blettarius, you do not 
wish her to ever forget you ; disdainful of the Duchess de 


TEE ROYAL CEASE. 


291 


Berry, you suppose already that she will do longer think of 
you to-morrow. The heart of niau is a labyrinth.” 

The carriage which bore the two young men entered the 
court-yard of the hotel in the Kue St. Honore, from which 
Hector went out in the evening, thoroughly disguised, to 
pay a visit to Christine, 

M. de Fourquevaux went at once to Versailles where, as 
we know, the Court had returned. His adventurous mind 
no longer glimpsed anything bvit the pleasant side of the 
singular communication which he was charged to make, 
and that which had frightened him at first, now rejoiced 
him. The play had just commenced when he entered the 
gallery, and as usual the Duchess de Berry held one of the 
tables. There was quite a crowd around lier. Paul Emile 
succeeded in getting placed close to the Princess. The only 
thing now was to lind an opi)ortunity to speak to her. The 
Princess seemed much occupied with the play, but an at- 
tentive and well posted observer like M. de Fourquevaux 
could not fail to remark the furtive looks which she threw 
to the right and to the left, before and behind her. She 
laughed, spoke and acted as if wrapped up in the game, 
but her mind was elsewhere. , 

“Good!” murmured Paul Emile, “now is the time to 
make the first move.” 

He threw some louis upon the table and coughed very 
strong as in comedies when a person wishes to attract 
attention. The Duchess de Berry raised her eyes to 
him. 

“Ah! here you are, M. de Fourquevaux,” said she; “you 
come very late, it seems to me.” 

“It is not to-day, Madame, that I perceive the imperti- 
nence of time — I run, I arrive— it is too late. Ah ! Madame 
forbid it to march when one is near you.” 

The Duchess de Berry smiled sweetly. 

“ Kemain, Monsieur, I will endeavor to do as you wish.” 

She played and gained ; a flood of gold passed through 
her hands. Her, eyes glided rapidly around the circle and 
stopped at Paul Emile. 

“ You lose, I believe,” said she. 

“ Yes, Madame — three more strokes of luck like that and 
you will have need of a treasurer.” 

The Princess, who was shuffling the cards, turned to M. 
de Fourquevaux, 

“ It is a function which M. de Chavailles filled wonder- 
fully. Y'ou who are the Pythias of this Damon, have you 
not seen him ? ” 

“ Ah! Madame, what a blow for the Marquis, if he heard 
you.” 

The Duchess was fortunate enough to win again; the 
gold pieces scintillated under her fingers. 

“You speak in enigmatic terms,” said she, “explain 
yourself,” 


292 


THE ROYAL CHASE, 


“ If to arrive late is a subject for rebuke, not to arrive at 
all. is a crime.” 

The brilliant ej^es of the Duchess interrogated the coun- 
tenance of M. de Fourquevaux, then fell suddenly. Paul 
Simile, who did not take his eyes off her, saw her pale under 
the rouge; she held the cards with a trembling hand and 
kept silent for some moments. 

“ But,” said she, “ however late one arrives, one still ar- 
rives a little.” 

Paul Emile shook his head. 

“ Neither little, nor much,” said he. 

These four words were murmured in a voice so grave, 
that the Princess trembled. The conversation died at the 
same moment and the play continued. 

“ The ice is broken,” thought Paul Simile ; “ either I no 
longer understand a woman’s heart, or she will question 
me.” 

The play ended, the Princess rose up ; a slight movement 
of her long eyelashes warned M. de Fourquevaux; this 
movement was almost invisible, but that gentleman had 
too keen a glance not to understand its significance. 
He followed the Duchess de Berry and descended with her 
to the gardens. There was a crowd of courtiers upon the 
terraces and in the avenues ; but avoiding the company, she 
gained an elm whose curtain of verdure led to the basin of 
Apollo. Paul fimile found himself near her as she turned 
round. 

“ It is you! ” said she feigning surprise — “ I thought you 
quite a distance away.” 

“ I ought to be away since you desire to be alone, but 
evening is the hour of reveries,” said Paul Emile ; “ I was 
thinking of Venus wdio smiles over yonder and followed 
you in spite of myself.” 

M. de Fourquevaux, after this little madrigal, bowed like 
a man ready to withdraw. 

“Kemain, since you are here,” said the Duchess. “By 
the way, what was that you said to me just now at play ? I 
did not understand you very well.” 

“ I spoke of the impertinence of time, I believe,” replied 
Paul ^lmile. 

“ Yes, at first, but afterward ? ” 

“My God, Madame, I dare not recollect.” 

“ Well! I shall have more courage than you.” 

“Aid me then, Madame.” 

“ You were speaking, it seems to me, of M. de Chavailles.” 

“You are quite right.” 

“ Well continue. I am djiug with impatience.” 

“Madame, your Highness’ treasurer has fought a duel.” 

The Duchess stopped short. 

“ A duel, did you say ? ” 

“Yes, Madame.” 

“ But then, if he has not come, it is that he is ” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


293 


“ Wounded! ” interrupted M. de Fourquevaux. 

The Duchess de Berry became quite pale and leaned 
against the marble pedestal of a Pan who was playing the 
flute. 

“ M. deChavailles is not likely to die,” pursued Paul Emile ; 
“ but he is wounded, grievously enough to be unable to ven- 
ture out for six weeks or two months.” 

The Princess passed her handkerchief over her lips which 
trembled slightly, and, looking at her interlocutor, she 
said : 

“ You are right to hesitate, M. le Comte, the royal edicts 
are so severe. But you have forgotten an essential fact in 
the revelation which you have just made me.” 

“ What is it, Madame ? ” 

“ The name of M. de Chavailles’ adversary.” 

“ He is before you, Madame.” 

“ You 1 his most intimate friend : It is impossible.” 

“ So it seems no doubt, but nevertheless it is true.” 

“ But the cause of this duel, the cause. Monsieur? ” 

“The cause, Madame, the cause,” replied Paul iSmile 
placing one knee upon the ground, “is one of those which 
one stammers at the confessional, which one murmurs 
during summer nights to the amorous zephyr, which one 
relates to the attentive and silent lakes; you can guess it, 
but I can not say it.” 

The temerity of this movement, and still more, this un- 
expected language, transparent in its obscurity, troubled 
the Duchess de Berry. She looked, agitated and blushing, 
at the young man kneeling before her, and made him a 
sign to rise up. Paul Emile sadly shook his head. 

“ No, Madame, not before you have pardoned my crime,” 
said he. 

“Kise up. Monsieur; some one may come and surprise 
you.” 

“If I am not pardoned, I will remain at your feet, even 
if it should result in my death.” 

“ Eh ! do not die. Monsieur,” said the Princess. “ I must 
pardon you, but on one condition.” 

“ Order, Madame.” 

“ Do not begin again, and keep silence.’ 

Steps were heard in the avenue, and the Duchess escaped. 
Paul Emile watched her. 

“ Can it be that Hector was right ? ” he murmured. 


CHAPTEK XLVI. 

THE BLUE BOY. 

The agitation of the preceding days had suddenly given 
way to a profound calm. Hector had withdrawn from court, 
and lived for Christine alone. M. de Fourquevaux, now 


294 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


that he had discovered a marvelous pretext for that fantas- 
tic duel, comported himself like a veritable Amad is. He 
was all sighs and madrigals, and never ran short of the most 
flowery mythological comparisons. As to the Chevalier, he 
had disappeared without leaving any more trace of his pass- 
age than a swallow in the air. Cydalise had wished to 
sound M. d’ Argeuson, but he had remained more impene- 
trable than the night. Qne daj’^ she boldly put the question 
to him. The Lieutenant of Police frowned. 

“Oh! I expected it,” said she, “but ail your terrible airs 
will no longer stop me.” 

M. Yoyer d’ Argenson took Cydalise’s hands. 

“ My dear child,” said he, “ you play like a bird, but take 
care that the bird does not get caught in the nets of the 
bird-catcher. Once taken, all my power can avail you 
nothing. You bite your pretty lips“, and you long to ques- 
tion me. Let me say to you that if I, the Lieutenant of 
Police, had as an adversary a man, — I do not say the Cheva- 
lier,— but a man who resembled the Chevalier, ’pon my 
faith, I w^ould retire from the contest.” 

Saying which M. Yoyer d’ Argenson rose up, and the 
comedienne could obtain nothing more from him. But 
what she had heard was enough to sadly perplex her. 

Hector, in his happiness, had forgotten everything — 
Court, war. King, and Duchess de Berry. One day how- 
ever a word awoke him. This word was pronounced by M. 
de Biparfonds. 

“ The Duke of Orleans has seen Monseigneur le Dauphin,” 
said he, “ Monseigneur le Dauphin is expecting you.” 

Hector and M. de Pdparfonds left the next day for Yer- 
sailles. As they approached Yersailles its great park be- 
gan to unroll its perspectives ; the sun struck the windows 
which sparkled with a thousand fires ; some minutes more 
and they would cross the court of that gigantic palace. 
Hector rose up in the saddle. 

“I have been dreaming,” said he, “ I am now going to 
act.” 

The Duke of Orleans, forewarned of M. de Chavailles’ ar- 
rival, was expecting hiiii in his apartment. 

“For many days I have been desiring to see you,” he 
said as soon as he perceived Hector ;“ but it is difficult 
to snatch a Telemaque from the isle of Calypso.” 

“Ah! Monseigneur!” said Hector, “you mix regret 
with my joy.” 

“ And why ? ” 

“ Your words make me fear that I have lost too much 
time.” 

“It is because you were losing time in a fashion so 
agreeable, that I have waited till the last moment before 
disturbing you. But follow me, my dear Chavailles, to the 
apartment of Monseigneur le Dauphin, who is quite dis- 
posed to receive you,” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


295 


Th* Dauphin welcomed Hector with that cold grac» 
which was natural to him. He was then thirty years of 
age, and was applying himself with the most scrupulous at- 
tention and care to that hard trade of King which he was 
never to exercise. He was irreproachable in his private 
conduct, aud was extremely conscientious. He was no 
longer the impetuous prince who, indomitable and fero- 
cious, had in former times frightened the court. It would 
be hard to to say what miracle had wrought this change in 
him. But the fact was that since the death of his father, 
suddenly carried off by one of those maladies to deal with 
which art is powerless, the young Duke of Burgundy pro- 
moted to the honors and rank of Dauphin of France,' took 
part in the deliberation and familarized himself with all 
matters pertaining to the government of the Kingdom. 
Familiarity was not possible with the Dauphin as it had 
been with his father, who had been the idol of Parisians 
without one knowing why; but he was loved for his just 
and upright character and he knew how to inspire at the 
same time respect and devotion. 

“ My cousin, the Duke of Orleans, has spoken to me of an 
affair in which you are much interested, Monsieur,” said the 
Dauphin as soon as he saw Hector; “you have worthily 
served the King, my father; whatever I can do for you, I 
will do, it is my duty, and count on it.” 

“ Monseigneur, in speaking to me thus, attaches me to 
his person by the ties of an eternal gratitude,” replied 
Hector. 

“ I only ask you to continue as you have begun.” 

“ Monseigneur! ” 

“ Oh ! I am not unaware of your deeds in w^ar. You were 
forgotten for a time. Monsieur; but the King has already 
repaired the injustice of which you were a victim, and I 
will see to it that this injustice does not persecute you 
anew.” 

“ I had no need of this assurance for doing my duty.” 

“ I know it, but mine was to give it.” 

“Well! Monseigneur, since Your Highness is so kind, 
may I intercede with you for some veiy dear friends, who 
suffer and do not deserve to suffer.” 

The Dauphin smiled. 

“ The Duke of Orleans has already spoken to me of these 
very dear friends. M. de Blettarius and his daughter are 
in a grievous situation, I believe.” 

“ They are already saved, if you accord them your pro- 
tection.” 

The Dauphin shook his head. 

“ If I occupied the position of the King our master, I 
would boldly say to you : they are ; but Louis XIV. reigns, 
Monsieur; and he will reign in the most complete accepta- 
tion of the word so long as his heart beats, and by a divine 


296 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


miracle of Providence, his soul and his body brave the 
years.” 

“ May God keep him ! ” said the Duke of Orleans and M. 
de Chavailles. 

“ I said to you, I believe,” said the Dauphin after a short 
silence, “ that M. de Blettarius’ situation was bad. Acci- 
dent has willed that, in the disorders which marked the 
regency of Anne of Austria, this seigneur should often 
signal himself. He was at the combat of the Faubourg St. 
Antoine; he was at the battle of the Dunes; his name has 
often struck the ears of my grandfather at the chateau of 
St. Germain. How has he been forgotten in the merciful 
pardon extended to so many other guilty ones ? I do not 
know. Is it an instance of neglect ? Is it a concealed 
will ? Who knows ? To draw his name from the forgetful- 
ness into which it has fallen — is it not to revive the 
danger ? ” 

“ If he is guilty, Monseigneur, — and I recognize the fact 
that he is— are not others as much or more so than he ? He 
had ties of friendship with the house of Conde ; he has given 
way to the blind impetuosity of youth aided by the zeal of 
the heart.” 

“ I know it, and justice wills that the grace which others 
have obtained he should obtain also. When the great 
trees are spared it is not fitting to strike the shrubs.” 

This was said in a firm tone in which there was already 
something of the King. It was easily to be seen that he 
who spoke was the grandson of Louis XIV. 

“ To sum up. Wliat I can do for M. de Blettarius I will 
do. I cannot promise, because I only know what I wish, 
not what I can accomplish.” 

The conversation was ended and Hector wished to with- 
draw; but the Dauphin^ taking the arm of the Duke of 
Orleans, left the cabinet with him. A blue boy was in a 
neighboring room, ranging some porcelain upon a piece of 
furniture; he turned around on the appearance of these 
three persons, and if some one had looked at him, that 
someone would have been struck by the expression of sur- 
prise upon his countenance. He remained before a console, 
spying in the mirror the movements of the three talkers. 
His hands trembled slightly, and his lips had grown some- 
what pale. 

“Eh!” said the Dauphin who perceived him, “ I am 
thirsty, bring me a glass of water.” 

The blue boy went out without replying and came back in 
a moment with the water. 

They were then near the door. The Dauphin stopped. 

“Count upon me,” said he with his eyes turned toward 
Hector; “ I esteemed j’ou before knowing you, and now that 
I know you I esteem you still more.” 

The blue boy was close to them. On hearing the last 
words of the Dauphin, his eyes sparkled. Hector again 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


297 


thanked his protector and went out leaving the Dauphin 
who returned to his cabinet. Left alone, the blue boy mur- 
mured ; 

“Come! I was still hesitating 1 shall hesitate no 

longer.’* 


CHAPTER XL VII. 

A TRAGEDY IN ACTION. 

When M. de Chavailles brought the news of his conver- 
sation with the Dauphin to M. de Blettarins, the old gentle- 
man raised his hands to heaven in sign of thanks. He then 
embraced M. de Chavailles and placing the hand of his 
daughter in that of the Marquis, he said : 

“ My children, we can wait, the night is fading and the 
day is at last coming.” 

A thunderbolt was to awaken all three of them. The 
ninth of February, 1712, the Dauphiness suddenly fell sick ; 
on the twelfth, she was dead. 

The strange evil which had carried her off in some days 
had no name ; science at least dared not give it one. There 
were frightful signs upon the body. To the shock of this 
death was added the terror of the mysterious cause. The 
most frightful rumors circulated among the courtiers; they 
repeated in low tones the words of the physicians ; they re- 
lated what symptoms had been observed, and the most ter- 
rible suspicions were spread one after another, gainingsoon 
the firmest and most incredulous minds. On the thirteenth, 
the Dauphin went to Marly to escape the funereal noises 
which were presently going to fill with their horror the 
chamber of the dead woman. The King had quitted Ver- 
sailles in the night and was waiting for his grandson. 
Louis XIV. was more moved than he wished to let it ap- 
pear; the death of the Dauphiness was one of the sharpest 
afflictions he had ever experienced. She had the secret of 
pleasing that melancholy old man who had nothing left to 
learn from life. At the moment of quitting her, when 
already the breath of death was chilling the pale face of the 
Dauphiness, the King had wept. A small number of 
courtiers had ranged themselves in the salon which pre- 
ceded the apartment of the King, at Marly, to salute the 
Dauphin on his passage. Curiosity dominated some, in- 
terest the others. MM. de Chavailles, de Riparfonds and de 
Fourquevaux were among the first to arrive. AVhen the 
Dauphin appeared at the entrance of the salon, the as- 
sembly of courtiers shivered. The countenance of the 
Prince exhibited a terrible depression ; his eyes were dry 
and haggard. A leaden palor was extended over his 
cheeks; his temples were hollow ; he seemed to have aged 
ten years. The Dauphin walked slowly, without looking 
and without seeing. 


298 


THE BOYAL CHASE. 


The movement which took place in the circle of courtiers 
drew him from his mournful and grievous depression. He 
raised his head and let his eyes wander around him. 

M. de Riparfonds, de Chavailles and de Fourquevauxhad 
approached to salute him ; he recognized them and smiled 
sadly. 

“ M. le Marquis,” said he to Hector, “I have not for- 
gotten you.” 

This recollection under such sad circumstances touched 
Hector profoundly. 

“Monseigneur!” he exclaimed wishing to carry to his 
lips the hand of the Prince. 

“Oh! do not thank me,” said the Dauphin interrupting 
him, “it is when one is unfortunate oneself, that it is 
sweetest to do a little good.” 

Two tears shone between the eyelashes of the Dauphin 
and were soon effaced by the fire of fever. 

“ I have gathered together some papers which may dis- 
arm the King,” said the Dauphin. “I will speak to him 
soon. But you give me some days, do you not V ” 

“Monseigneur, think only of yourself!” exclaimed 
Hector. 

“And why should I think of myself? I am alone now.” 

The head of the Dauphin fell upon his breast, and his face 
was covered with livid shadows. * A great silence prevailed 
around him; the courtiers, immovable in the salon, looked 
at him without speaking and holding their breath. Even 
the youngest and most thoughtless respected that immense 
grief in which the soul of the Prince was plunged like a 
shipwrecked man in the sea. The two minions of the Prince 
approached, and seeing that he remained at the same place, 
entreated him to enter the apartment where were Louis 
XIV. and Mme. de Maintenon. The Dauphin raised his 
head a moment, turned toward them his restless looks, and 
did not budge. Soon after his forehead was bowed again, 
and he returned to that despairing attitude which was 
so frightful to see. A mute shiver traversed the assembly 
which observed the ravages which the death of the Dauph- 
iness had impressed upon the countenance of the Dauphin. 
Where were his youth, his proud bearing, his piercing look, 
and his prepossessing manner ? A funereal night had swept 
away at one stroke all those charming gifts. 

“ Monseigneur,” M. de Riparfonds then said, “the King 
is waiting for Your Highness. Support with courage this 
last trial.” 

“ Of what trial do you speak. Monsieur ? ” replied the 
Dauphin. “ Have I still some to submit to ? My wife is 
dead. All is finished ! ” 

“ Monseigneur, the nobility of France has its eyes upon 
you who are its hope. Shall you let yourself be conquered 
by adversity and show yourself to the King with this de- 
pressed forehead.” 


THE EOYAL CHASE. 


299 


The Dauphin shook his head. 

“She is dead, Monsieur; she is dead, I tell you— her 
arms attract me.” 

Hector shivered at these sinister words, but respectfully 
placing his hand upon the Prince’s arm, he drew him softly 
toward the door of the King’s apartment. The Dauphin 
made no resistance ; he no longer spoke and his face was 
covered with tears which flowed without his preceiving it. 

“ May God keep you and protect you ! ” said Hector at the 
moment the Dauphin passed the door. 

The Dauphin half raised his head, thanked him softly 
with his eyes and entered the King’s apartment. The door 
had hardly closed upon him when the sobs of grandfather 
and grandson were heard as the}’’ pressed each other in their 
arms. Hector’s heart leaped in his breast; he dared not 
look at his friends for fear of reading upon their faces the 
terror which was in his soul. M. de Eiparfonds and Paul 
Emile could not take their eyes from the door through 
which the heir to the throne had just disappeared. The 
most somber inquietude was painted upon their physiog- 
nomies; suddenly struck by terror, they measured in 
thought the distance which the Daupliin had traversed in 
three days to draw near the tomb ; the heir to the throne 
was standing on the brink of it; a step perhaps was going 
to precipitate him into it. 

“ It is the hand of God! murmured M. de Eiparfonds. 

“It is the hand of man!” replied Hector who suddenly 
recalled the conversation which he had surprised between 
Prince Eugene and the Chevalier. That evening it was 
learnt that the Dauphin had gone to bed with a violent 
fever; the same symptoms which accompanied the malady 
of the Dauphiness presented themselves in more alarming 
fashion. Fright seized the court. Many wept Sincerely; 
the old lords who had seen Louis XIV. in ail the splendor 
of his power, asked themselves what was going to become 
of this unfortunate Kingdom, delivered into the hands of a 
child, and they bitterly recalled the calamities which 
marked the regency of Queen Anne. A different preoccu- 
pation tormented the mind of M. de Chavailles. Tim 
malady of the Dauphin adjourned the realization of his 
hopes; his death was going to extinguish them all. 

The consternation which reigned in the court was inex- 
pressible. The evil grew worse from hour to hour and the 
physicians called to the Dauphin’s bedside exhausted them- 
selves in useless remedies. The sufferings of the patient 
w^ere at times intolerable; at other times he fell into a pro- 
found stupor. As soon as a physician appeared outside the 
Dauphin’s chamber, he was pressed with questions; but his 
silence or his short replies indicated that the malady was 
stronger than science. Boudin, the Dauphin’s regular 
physician, said everywhere that he had never seen anything 
similar, and that nothing short of a miracle could save the 


THE ROYAL CEASE. 


300 

grandson of Louis XIV. Marechal, the King’s surgeon, 
alone held out that the Dauphin was only sick of a fever. 
Their words were listened to, commented on, and the 
general fright increased. There was no longer order any- 
where; princes of the blood, maids of honor, courtiers, 
officers, pages and servants alike encumbered the passages 
to the room in which the Dauphin was struggling with 
death. Red spots appearing suddenly on his body caused 
them to think that it might be measles and revived hope. 
But many recalled the fact that the same spots, and in as 
gi’eat a number, had appeared upon the body of the 
Dauphiness and had not preserved her from death. 

Toward the end of the third day, the 16th, Boudin and 
Marechal were seen leaving the chamber of the dying man. 
They were talking with great animation. 

“No! no!” exclaimed Marechal, “I will sustain to the 
end, that it is impossible, that you take chimerical fears for 
realities, and that similar accidents are to be seen every 
day.” 

“And I affirm,” replied Boudin impetuously, “that I 
have never observed symptoms so terrible in any malady, 
that it defies science, and that all the remedies in the world 
can accomplish nothing.” 

Marechal shrugged his shoulders. 

“ It is measles,” said he. 

“It is poison! ” exclaimed Boudin violently. 

A bomb falling suddenly in the middle of the gallery 
would not have produced, among the assistants, the terrible 
effect of these words articulated with an extraordinary 
vehemence. A shiver of fright traversed the assembly. All 
regards were fixed upon Boudin who bit his lips, read’justed 
his perru< 2 iue and passed on. A great silence reigned every- 
where; M. de Riparfonds took Marechal by the arni, and 
drew him to one side.- Hector and Paul Emile were with 
them. 

“ We have heard you both,” said the Duke to Marechal, 
“ tell us, upon your faith as an honest man, which of you 
is right?” 

Mar6chal scratched his ear. 

“ My faith! I do not know! ” 

“Such is science,” murmured M. de Fourquevaux. 

“ Science is all right,” replied the surgeon, “ but do you 
think it easy to reply, when one wishes to reply honestly.” 

“ Therefore you would not dare affirm that the Dauphin 
has not been poisoned ! ” asked Hector. 

“ Certainly not! I do not say that he is, neither do I say 
that he is not.” 

“ Nevertheless, Just now — ” 

“Oh ! Just now, I spoke like a practitioner who discusses 
an opinion and sustains his own; then I do not think it 
wise to frighten the King in his old age by the horrible 
thought of systematic poisoning applied to his family,” 


THE ROYAL CEASE. 


301 


“ You are right,” replied M. de Eiparfonds pressing the 
hand of the old surgeon, “ you act like an honest man.” 

Just then a valet came out of the Dauphin’s chamber, 
approached Marechal and asked him if he had not seen a 
certain box filled with excellent Spanish tobacco, which 
Philip V. had sent to the Dauphiness and which t^ie Prince 
wished to have. 

“ I can not find it anywhere,” said the valet. 

“Wait!” exclaimed Hector, “it seems to me that I saw 
it in Monseigneur’s cabinet while passing by.” 

Hector quitted Paul Emile and passed into the cabinet. 
As he entered, he perceived a blue boy there, who grew pale 
on seeing him. Hector searched everywhere but did not 
find the box. He then questioned the blue boy who replied 
that he had seen it but did not now know where it was. 
Hector gave a last glance around the room and went out. 

“ It was time! ” murmured the blue boy as he shoved a 
box down his breeches’ pocket. 

Toward evening, the Dauphin’s mind wandered, and the 
court learned that all hope was lost. For the last time the 
King came to embrace his grandson. About to cross that 
door which was soon to open before death, Louis XIV. 
tottered ; his countenance was bathed in tears; but all eyes 
were fixed upon him, he rose up, recollected that he was a 
King and walked with a firm and slow step toward Madame de 
Maintenon’s apartment. The courtiers held their breath; 
in the midst of that profound silence, broken only by the 
stified breathing of the Dauphin, the King walked solemnly 
but majestically into the apartment of the dying man. 

At midnight mass was celebrated in the^Dauphin’s room, 
all doors being open. He communicated and then called 
for his most intimate friends. Hector was one of the first 
to answer this appeal. A blue boy who was in a neighboring 
room carelessly drew near the bed at the same time as Hec- 
tor. Hector saw only the Dauphin. 

“M. le Marquis,” the Dauphin said to him, “ death sur- 
prises me before I have been able to accomplish what I de- 
signed to do. But be without fear.— I have placed in order 
some notes which are in my cabinet, upon my study table. 
The Due de Berry, my brother, will hand them to the King, 
who, through love for me, will do what I ask of him.” 

Hector fell upon his knees, took the Prince’s hand and 
kissed it, weeping as he did so. 

“ Go, Monsieur, and pray for me! ” said the Dauphin. 

The blue boy had not lost a single word of this conversa- 
tion, and at its conclusion a flash of joy lit up his counte- 
nance. When the dying man had finished speaking to 
those whom he had designed to see, he manifested a desire 
to be left alone. Everybody withdrew to a neighboring 
room. At eight o’clock, the Dauphin uttered a great sigh ; 
the attendants ran to his bed ; the heir of Louis XIV. had 
just surrendered his soul to God. 


302 


TEE ROYAL CHASE. 


CHAPTEK XL VIII. 

A LITTLE ASHES. 

The last words of the Dauphin, while augmenting the 
regrets of M. de Chavailles, had nevertheless inspired him 
with more security. The King would surely give way to the 
desire of his expiring grandson ; Hector had only to wait 
till the papers in the Dauphin’s cabinet were collected 
together. The court mourned the Dauphin’s death for a 
while, but soon things took up their usual course again. 
But M. de Chavailles’ fortunes suffered a curious change. 
He was scrupulously avoided by all the courtiers, and 
strange looks followed him when he appeared in the salons 
of Versailles or Marly. He took no notice of this at first, 
but finally an accident forced him to open his eyes ; if his 
sleep had been profound, his awakning was terrible. One 
morning on returning from a visit to Christine he met M. 
de Fourquevaux at a retired spot in the forest in company 
with M. de Kiparfonds and Coq-Heron. Paul Emile re- 
pressed a gesture of surprise on seeing Hector and wrapped 
his cloak «irouud his arm ; but Hector had iust leaped down 
from his horse and took the hands of his two friends at the 
same time. 

“Ah!” said M. de Fourquevaux, quickly withdrawing 
his hand. 

“ What is the matter ? ” asked Hector. 

“Nothing,” replied Paul Emile readjusting his cloak. 

M. de Chavailles looked at Coq-Heron who was twisting 
his mustache. 

“Blood!” he exclaimed on seeing the spotted coat and 
red hand of his valet. 

“Pooh!” said Coq-Heron, “I have only scratched my 
fingers on some thorn bush.” 

“You have fought both of you!” exclaimed M. de 

Chavailles. 

The two gentlemen and the vafet kept silence. 

“ A duel without me Ah ! messieurs, that is something 

I will never pardon! ” continued Hector. 

“Eh! mordieu! you are the last person to whom M. le 
Corate would have spoken of it! ” said Coq-H4ron. 

“Coq-Heron!” exclaimed Paul Emile in a tone of re- 
proach. 

“ My faith ! Monsieur, scold as much as you please, I have 
spoken and I do not take back wdiat I have said.” 

M. de Kiparfonds kept silence. Hector took him by the 
arm. 

“I believe that I am mixed up in this affair,” he said to 
him ; “in the name of our friendship tell me the truth.” 

M. de Kiparfonds hesitated, when Coq-H6ron exclaimed: 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


303 


“You have been insulted in the presence of M. de Four- 
quevaux, and M. de Fourquevaux has fought for you.’* 

“ May I ask in what way I have been insulted ? ” said M. 
de Chavailies. 

“ The insult has been washed out in blood that suf- 

fices,’’ said M. de Kiparfonds proudly. 

“Well, no! that does not suffice! ’’ exclaimed Coq-H4ron, 
“you can be silent if you wish, but I will speak and nothing 
shall stop me.’’ 

“Eh! speak, mordieu! if it pleases you,” said M. de 
Kiparfonds seizing Coq-Heron by the arm, “but net here at 
least.” 

“You are right, M. le Due,” replied Coq-Heron coldly : 
“I shall wait.” 

The carriages which the lackeys had gone to seek having 
arrived, the company mounted within and rapidly took the 
road to Paris. Hector did not say a word ; Paul Emile and 
Guy exchanged mute looks ; Coq-H6ron, more rigid than a 
cavalier of stone, galloped at the portiere. 

“At last!” said Hector, when he entered the Count’s 
apartments ; “ you are going to speak, now, I imagine.” 

“ Frankly, there is no occasion for rejoicing, and you had 
better not have come,” replied Paul Emile. 

“ Let Coq-Heron speak, since Coq-Heron wishes to 
speak,” interrupted M. de Kiparfonds. 

“ That suits me ! ” said the old soldier. 

Coq-Heron took off his belt, threw aside his cloak and 
placed himself before Hector. 

“It is first necessary, M. le Marquis,” said he, “ thatyou 
should know all the obligations you are under to these gen- 
tlemen. M. de Kiparfonds, who says nothing, has fought 
also.” 

“Ah! Guy! you have fought and said nothing to me about 
it! ” exclaimed M. de Chavailies. 

“It was nothing!” replied M. de Kiparfonds. 

“ I must tell you,” added Coq-Heron, “that this history 
of a triple duel commenced yesterday in the gardens. Two 
gentlemen were talking together; your friends passed that 
way ; they heard your name pronounced and listened. I 
who followed them did likewise. The conversation was 
rapid. Presently, the sweat rolled from my forehead, I 
started to rush forward when the Duke seized me and held 
me back. ‘Not yet,’ he said to me. The two gentlemen 
kept on talking. I was furious and so was M. de Fourque- 
vaux. Finally M. de Kiparfonds released me and made a 
step forward. M. de Fourquevaux made two steps forward, 
and throwing himself in front of the babblers, exclaimed : 
‘You lie.’ Both recoiled; M. le Comte had his hand upon 
the guard of his sword ; they were already drawing theirs 
when the Duke intervened. ‘ My friend, Comte de Four- 
quevaux, is right,’ said he ; ‘ you are two, we are two, but 
this is not the place for an explanation.’ The hour and 


304 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


place were agreed upon, and each went away. At day-break, 
we marched to a deserted part of the wood between two 
hillocks where the guards do not pass once in a year. Our 
two liars soon rejoined us. The blood rushed to my face and 
I would have given anything in the world to kill some one. 
The occasion presented itself of its own accord. A valet 
who followed the youngest gentlemen attempted the jester. 
‘Eh! friend,’ I said to him, ‘be silent, or I shall break 
some of your bones.’ I drew my rapier and two seconds 
after his throat was open. His comrade wished to avenge 
him, but I killed him. My man had just fallen, when I 
heard a great sigh to my right; it wasM. de Fourquevaux’s 
adversary tottering, with his hand upon his breast; the 
blood was gushing from between his fingers. ‘ Parbleu ! 
that is well done,’ said I. As to M. de Eiparfonds, the point 
of his sword was inclined downward ; his enemy was before 
him, disarmed, confused, mute. To sum up there were two 
dead and two wounded.” 

“ But what had these gentlemen said ? ” asked Hector. 

“They had said that you were a poisoner.” 

“ A poisoner ? ” repeated M. de Chavailles. 

“And that it was you had poisoned the Dauphin.” 

Hector uttered a cry. 

“ Have they said that ? ” he exclaimed. 

“;Yes,” replied the two gentlemen. 

“And they still live! their names, so that I may kill 
them.” 

“Their fault is punished Besides, we have sworn .to 

keep silence,” said M. de Riparfonds. 

M. de Chavailles fell upon a seat and concealed his head 
between his hands. A messenger suddenly came and an- 
nounced to them that the Duke of Orleans wished to seeM. 
de Riparfonds at once. 

“I shall go,” said the Duke; “and you, Fourquevaux, 
and Hector, also, come with me.” 

On their arrival at the Palais Royal, the three young peo- 
ple found the Duke of Orleans walking in his cabinet. His 
expressive countenance bore the traces of a keen grief and 
a profound indignation. 

“ Do you know what has taken place ? ” said the Prince 
“You are silent ? Well ! I am going to tell you. I am ac- 
cused of being a poisoner.” 

“You also! ” exclaimed Hector. 

“Ah!” said the Prince, “I am not alone, it appears! 
Then you also are accused, M. de Chavailles ? ” 

“ These gentlemen, who have fought for me, know some- 
thing about it.” 

“So calumny spares no one,” said the Prince ; “MM. de 
Riparfonds and de Fourquevaux may expect to be the next 
ones accused.” 

“We shall at least be in good company!” said Paul 
Emile. 


TEE ROYAL CHASE. 


305 


“You take things easy.” 

“That is my custom.” 

“Messieurs,” said Hector, “the rest of you can act as 
you please, but as for myself, I shall speak to the King.” 

“To the King!” exclaimed M. de Riparfonds. “At a 
similar moment and upon a similar subject ? ” 

“Certainly! The Dauphin has left some notes which 
concern M. de Blettarius ; these notes are in a cabinet, at 
Versailles ; several of his papers have been classed, with- 
out the notes which interest me having been found again ; 
but I shall go myself to the apartment of monseigneur, and 
when they are in my hands, I will boldly present myself to 
the King and he shall know all.” 

Hector pressed the hands of his friends and went out. 
He knew the Dauphin’s valet de chambre and went to him 
immediately after his arrival at Versailles. The valet de 
chambre listened to him, and then conducted him to the 
Dauphin’s cabinet, where he left him. As he entered the 
cabinet, he saw a man seated before a table, with his back 
turned. This man had a quantity of papers before him 
which he was examining with a feverish rapidity. He was 
completely absorbed in his task. A mirror was before him, 
and looking in this mirror Hector recognized the blue boy 
whom he had met once before in the Dauphin’s cabinet on 
the day he was seeking the box of Spanish tobacco. The 
boy read all the papers eagerly; suddenly his hands fell 
upon a sealed package. He opened it and as he read its 
contents he exclaimed : At last. Hector made a move- 
ment and the blue boy raised his eyes. Both of them looked 
at each other in the mirror. The blue boy paled and, by a 
gesture more rapid than thought, he threw the papers into 
a lire which was burning in the chimney. 

“Wretch! ” exclaimed M. de Chavailles running to him. 

But the blue boy had just darted to the extremity of the 
cabinet. This action disturbed the false perruque which 
covered his head and showed to the Marquis the livid fore- 
head of the Chevalier. Hector drew a sword and bounded 
forward, but the Chevalier had just opened a concealed 
door and disappeared through it. M. de Chavailles threw 
himself against the door but it did not give way. He then 
turned his eyes toward the chimney where the flames were 
devouring the last leaves of paper. Hector picked up a 
piece of paper half reddened by the flame and upon which 
there was still to be distinguished some characters : it was 
the name of M. de Blettarius written in the Dauphin’s 
hand. A profound sigh escaped Hector’s breast. 

“Poor Christine! ” said he concealing in his breast, like 
a relic, what was left of the paper. A little ashes, a little 
smoke, was all that remained of his hope. 

“ To the King, now,” said he — and he went out. 

Just as Louis XIV. came out of Madame de Maintenon’s 
apartment, Hector presented himself before him. 

^0 


306 


TEE ROYAL CHAaE. 


“You wish to speak to me, Monsieur?” said the King. 

“ Yes, gire, it concerns my life and my happiness; I com© 
to ask ray King to save them.” 

“Follow me then, Monsieur,” replied the King, who 
passed into his cabinet. 

“We are alone here. Monsieur, you can speak in full 
liberty,” resumed the King after the door was closed. 

“Sk'e,” said Hector, placing one knee upon the floor, 
“does Your Majesty permit me to recall to your mind a 
terrible recollection ? ” 

“A recollection. Monsieur; what one ? ” 

“The only one which I ought to forget; the recollection 
of that conversation which I surprised in a Flanders inn.” 

“ Why recall to me the shame which the memory of all 
this evokes ? ” said Louis XIV. 

“ Because it concerns, sire, the honor of a gentleman and 
the honor of your nobility.” 

“Well! Monsieur, speak without fear; I am listening to 
you.” 

“ Sire,” said Hector, “ a great crime has been committed. 
Your Majesty’s grandson has died from poison.” 

“What do you dare say. Monsieur?” exclaimed the 
King. 

“The truth, sire . If I lie, punish me; if I speak ac- 

cording to my conscience, listen to me.” 

“ Take care. Monsieur, such words may lead far.” 

“ They can not lead farther than the tomb, sire.” 

“Continue; it is you who have willed it.” 

“ The crime which killed the Dauphin, had already 
killed the Dauphiness, sire,” said M. de Chavailles, “and 
it will one day kill the Duke of Brittany.” 

Louis XIV. shivered. 

“Now, he who is accused of these crimes, is before Your 
Majesty.” 

“ You ! ” exclaimed the King rising up. 

“Yes, sire.” 

“ It is impossible.” 

“Oh, sire, thanks for that word! I expected it . It 

suffices to my justification, and I wish for none better! but 
another has been accused.” 

“Another still! ” 

“The Duke of Orleans, sire! ” 

“A Bourbon, Monsieur!” exclaimed Louis XIV.; “a 
Bourbon ! and you dare say it before me ? ” 

“ It is calumny which says it, and if I repeat it, it is in 
order to throw light on it.” 

The eyes of the King sparkled. 

“Do not trouble yourself. Monsieur,” said he, “the 
Duke of Orleans belongs to our family. When one bears a 
name like his, one has no need to defend oneself. lam 
the King iind I cover him.” 

“ I will report these words to His Boyal Highness, and 


THE BOYAL CHASE. 


307 


sure of Tour Majestj^’s heart, the Duke of Orleans will 
crush the calumny with his disdain ; but that is not all, 
sire.” 

“What more is there ? ” said the King. 

“ A crime has been committed. If the culprit is not among 
those accused, nevertheless he exists, and I know him.”- 

“ You know him. Monsieur ? ” 

“Just now he was in your court.” 

“ At Versailles ? ” 

“Yes, sire, at Versailles, close to Your Majesty. Now, 
he has fled.” 

“Do you know his name. Monsieur? ” 

“Do you recollect, sire, the pretended merchant who 
talked with Prince Eugene at the Broc cC Argent. Accident 
has revealed his name to me. He is called the Chevalier de 
St Clair ” 

“Well! this Chevalier ? ” 

“ He wore the livery of the blue boys ; I saw him here 
just now. This man is a Proteus, a magician, a demon! 
But let Your Majesty give me an order of arrest, and I 
s.wear that I will render a good account of it.” 

“ It is a lettre de cachet you wish. Monsieur? ” 

“Yes, sir&.” 

The King rang; a valet appeared, and, upon the King’s 
order, returned soon with a secretary. 

“Write down the names which the Marquis is going to 
dictate to you, and in such fashion that the bearer of the 
order may be obeyed as if it were myself.” 

The secretary bowed and took up a pen. The King went 
out. 

“ What name must I write ? ” the secretary asked Hector. 

“Write the Chevalier de St. Clair, otherwise known as 
the Abbe Hernandez,” replied Hector. 

The secretary wrote and afterward presented to Hector 
the lettre de cachet bearing the great seal of the King. 

Hector placed the precious letter in his pocket, mounted 
a horse and went to see Cydalise, to whom he imparted all 
the incidents of the day. 

“ You see the state of things,” said Hector in conclusion ; 
“I only lack one piece of information— the whereabouts of 
the Chevalier.” 

“And that is the most important.” 

“ Can you give it to me ? ” 

“You must take me for a sj^bil. Well! I shall try.” 

The comedienne reflected a few mom’ents. 

“ Have you the lettre de cachet ? ” she afterward said. 

“ Here it is! ” 

“Will you confide it to me for some moments?” 

“Willingly.” 

“ Wait for me here, then. You will see me again soon.” 

Cydalise threw a cloak over her shoulders, had a carriage 
brought, and left. When she arrived at M. Voyer d’ Argen- 


308 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


son’s she was told that the Lieutenant of Police was busy, 
and that he could not receive any one. Cydalise wrote a 
few lines upon a slip of paper and said : 

“ Hand this to him and tell him I am in a hurry.” 

Two minutes after Cydalise was introduced into M. d’ 
Argenson’s cabinet. 

“ I come to ask for a piece of information,” said she. 

“ Hum! ” said the Lieutenant of Police. 

Cydalise drew the lettre cle cachet from her pocket, and 
showing it to M. d’ Argenson, said : 

“ Do you know that seal ? ” 

“ Quite well,” replied the Lieutenant of Police. 

“ And the name which you see ? ” she continued unfold- 
ing the paper. 

“ Slightly! ” replied M. Yoyer d’ Argenson, who had just 
read the name of the Chevalier de St. Clair. 

“ Then, you will not hesitate to tell me where he conceals 
himself ? ” 

“ The man whom you pursue has already quitted Paris 
several times and under divers circumstances.” 

“ Each one more black than the other.” 

“That is not the question. On these occasions, he has 
taken refuge at Blois.” 

“ Blois, did you say ? ” ’ 

“ Yes ; and always in a monastery where he is taken for 
what he is not.” 

“ Ydiat is the monastery called ? ” 

“The Minimes . The building is situated on the 

Place St. Nicolas, close to the cathedral.” 

“Tliat is very clear; but does the Chevalier present him- 
self at the Minimes of Blois under his true name ? ” 

“He takes good care not to do so. The Chevalier then 
calls himself the Reverend Father Isidro Hernandez. He 
gives out that he is a Spanish abbe occupied on a great 
theological work which carries him from library to library 
and from convent to convent.” 

The count reconducted the comedienne to the door. 
Cydalise returned at once to M. de Ciiavailles. 

“Do not. grow impatient,” said she on arriving, “I know 
all.” 

“ At last! ” exclaimed Hector. 

“ Now,” added Cydalise after she had terminated her 
narrative, “wait a day or two until the Chevalier has had 
time to instal hims.elf and has lost the fear of being pur- 
sued.” 

Two days after Hector left with Coq-Heron for his only 
companion. The chaise in which Hector and Coq-H^*ron 
found themselves entered Blois at an advanced hour of the 
night. M. de Chavailles had tlie Place St. Nicolas pointed 
out to him and had the chaise stopped at the door of the 
convent of the Minimes. At the first knock, a brother 
came to the door. 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


309 


“ Cau you, my father, conduct me to the Abb4 Isidro 
Hernandez ? ” said M. de Chavailles. 

“ It is very late and he is in his cell,” replied the monk. 

“ What matters it! I come on the part of the King, my 
father, and I have orders to execute.” 

At that magic name of the King, all hesitation disap- 
peared. The monk took up a little lamp and opened an 
inner door. Hector and Coq-H4ron followed him. On ar- 
riving at the first story of the house, and at the end of a 
long corridor, the monk stopped before a door and said : 

“ It is here.” 

Hector pushed open the door and entered ; the cell was 
empty. A wax taper was burning upon a table between 
some scattered books. 

“ He must be in his oratory,” said the monk; “ when the 
worthy abbe does not work, he prays.” 

Hector raised a curtain and passed into the oratory. The 
Chevalier was kneeling before a prie-dieu, with joined 
hands. Coq-H^ron frowned furiously. 

“The rascal must have heard us,” he murmured. 

Hector walked straight up to the abbe and touched him 
on the shoulder. 

“ Stand up, M. le Chevalier,” said he. 

In spite of the power of dissimulation which he possessed, 
the abb6 bounded to his feet at that well-known voice. 
The two adversaries looked at each other. 

“You did not expect to see me, it appears,” said Hector. 

“ What do you wish. Monsieur? ” said he with a soft air. 

“Simply to ask you to follow me,” replied Hector. 

“ To follow you where, if you please ? ” 

“Where it shall please His Majesty, the King, to send 
you ; I have an order to arrest you.” 

Hector drew the lettre de cachet from his pocket. 

“Here is the seal and signature of the King,” said he. 
“Do not think to escape me; dead or alive, you shall fol- 
low me.” 

“Well played!” murmured the abb4 who had half 
leaned over to examine the lettre de cachet. 

He drew himself up and said : 

“ The King will ’always find me ready to submit to his 
orders ; but before following you, will you permit me to ex- 
amine, before you, some precious papers. — I ask for the rest 
of the night— will you accord it to me ? ” 

Hector hesitated, but as he intended not to lose sight of 
the Chevalier, he gave way. Then the Abbe very tranquilly 
asked the monk who had shown Hector the way to the 
Abbe’s cell to go and tell Pere Honore to come to him. 

“I go,” said the monk. 

The Abbe seated himself before his table, picked up his 
books, examined some papers and classed them by files 
under Hector’s eyes. 

Presently the monk returned with Pere Houor6. Pere 


310 


TEE ROYAL CHASE. 


Honore, on seeing Hector, repressed a gesture of surprise 
andi)ulled down his capuchin over his eyes. 

“I have sent for you, my brother,” said the Abbe, “to 
ask you to put my books and manuscripts in order ; this 
gentleman takes me to Paris by order of the King — I do 
not know whether the journey will be short or long, and 
that is why I wish everything classed and examined as I 
have directed you.” 

“ Count upon me,” replied Pere Honores. 

“You know what I have told you,” the xibb6 resumed 
and accenting each of his words, “therefore neglect noth- 
ing, I pray you ; the work is important.” 

“ Everything shall be done as you desire, I promise you.” 

Pere Honore and the Abbe Hernandez shook hands with 
each other, after which Pere Honore went out. Scarcely 
had he turned the corner of the corridor, than, raising him- 
self up, he descended the stairway with a firm and rapid 
step, entered his cell, closed the door carefully, rid himself 
of his monkish dress, took a letter concealed in a secret 
compartment of a large chest, mounted to the window sill, 
looked over in the street to see if anyone was watching, 
and suspending himself with one hand to an iron bar which 
he had prudently sawed in advance, he let himself slide to 
the ground. The letters which the pretended monk carried 
under his coat bore for superscription these cabalistic 
words: “To the Rev. Father Tellier, confessor of the 
King.” In four bounds, he gained a neighboring inn, 
knocked at the door and had it opened. 

“Eh! ” said he to the boy who was rubbing his eyes, “ is 
the horse which I brought here three days ago, in good 
condition ?^’ 

“Yes, Monseigneur,” replied the gaping boy. 

“Take this crown and conduct me to the stable.” 

The boy, thoroughly awake this time, guided the cavalier 
who saddled his horse like a man experiences in these 
sorts of affairs. When the last buckle was fixed and the 
pistols placed in the holsters, the cavalier led the animal by 
the bridle outside of the inn, mounted, rolled his cloak 
around his shoulders and rode away at a headlong pace. 
The horse traversed the Place St. Nicolas at a gallop, 
passed under the windows of the Abbe Hernandez, and dis- 
appeared at a turn of the street. Coq-Heron looked through 
the window and saw a black shadow flying in the night. If 
his eyes had been able to pierce the double mystery of the 
obscurity and the cloak, he would have recognized the bold 
face and cunning eye of Coquelicot. 


TEE ROYAL CEASE. 


311 


CHAPTER XLIX. 

THE king’s seal. 

Two or three hours after the departure of Coquelicot; the 
Abbe Hernandez threw himself upon his bed. Hector ex- 
tended himself in a leather faiiteuil in a corner of the cell, 
and Coq-Heron placed himself as a sentinel before the door. 
At day-break, the captive and his two guardians mounted a 
chaise and left the convent of the Minimes, in the midst of 
the tears of the good fathers, who pressed the Abbe’s 
hands, and asked him for his benediction. 

On the evening of the third day after their departure 
from Blois, Coq-Heron perceived in the fog the towers of 
Notre Dame. 

“Paris! ” he exclaimed. 

The Chevalier leaned out at the portidre and surveyed the 
horizon. 

“ Parbleu, it is true,” said he. 

“Monsieur,” said Coq-Heron, “ behind those black towers 
which you see before us is the Chatelet ; have you thought 
of that ? ” 

“Never,” replied the Chevalier. 

“So much the worse. It is a place with which you will 
soon have occasion to become acquainted.” 

“Perhaps, as Montaigne says.” 

And, without saying anything more, he began to beat a 
march upon the glass. In a quarter of an hour, the car- 
riage reached the walls of Paris. 

“At last! ” murmured Coq-Heron. 

Just as they were about to cross the Porte St. Jacques, an 
officer presented himself at the portiere of the chaise. 

“Pardon,” said he, “does this carriage belong to the 
Marquis de Chavailles? ” 

“ I am the Marquis de Chavailles ; what do you wish with 
me,” replied Hector. 

‘‘ I have an order from His Majesty which I wish to sig- 
nify to you.” 

“ What is the nature of this order? ” 

“It is extremely simple. You have a prisoner with you, 
I believe.” 

“ Here he is— the Chevalier de St. Clair.” 

“ You will confide him to me, if you please.” 

Coq-Heron frowned. 

“Confide the Chevalier to you ! ” exclaimed Hector ; “it 
is impossible! ” 

“ Nevertheless, I have in my pocket a positive order— an 
order signed by the King.” 

“ Eh! Monsieur, if it is to conduct him to the Bastille, I 
will charge myself with the task.” 


312 


THE ROYAL CEASE. 


“No, it is not a question of the Bastille.” 

“Then you do not take this rascal to prison! ” said Coq- 
Heron. 

“No.” 

“ What are you going to do with him ? 

“ Through respect for the Marquis, I will say that, ac- 
cording to all appearances, the Chevalier is going to be set 
at liberty.” 

“ Monsieur, I have in my pocket a lettre de cachet.” 

“ I have in mine an order from the King.” 

“Here it is.” 

“ Here is mine.” 

“ My letter is dated May 25th.” 

“My order is later; look.” 

“It is of the 30th! Great God ! ” said Hector. 

“Now that you have seen with your own e 3 "es the order 
and signature of the King, I hope that you will no longer 
hesitate to turn the prisoner over to me.” 

“I obey, Monsieur,” said Hector, “and you can take 
charge of the Chevalier.” 

“I did not expect less from a gentleman like yourself,” 
replied the officer. 

The Chevalier rose up and stepped out of the carriage. 
The officer came forward, and the Chevalier followed him to 
a carriage which was waiting by the roadside. Both of 
them got in it and the carriage rolled aw^ay. 

Hector continued his journey, but without the Chevalier. 
He ordered the postilion to push on to Versailles, where he 
soon arrived. He was in haste to see the King and speak 
to him. Louis XIV. w'as going to breakfast when he per- 
ceived M. de Chavailles. The King went up to him, and the 
circle of courtiers -stood aside. 

“You have returned. Monsieur? ” said the King. 

“ I come to render an account to Your Majesty of the re- 
sult of my mission,” replied Hector. 

“ I see from your air that the result has not been such as 
3 ’ou hoped for.” 

“ I acknowledge it, sire ; the man of the Broc d’^Arcient 
was in my power, to-morrow he would have answered to 
justice for his crimes—” 

“Oh! I know that you faithfully carry out the enter- 
prises which you undertake.” 

“ But, Sire,” continued Hector, not heeding the King’s 
interruption, “I have found, at the gates of Paris, an officer 
who has signified to me an order from Your Majesty. — ” 

“Which you have obeyed, Monsieur.” 

“It was my duty, sire, though it concerned my life and 
my honor.” 

“Your honor is in my keeping, and I answer for it. As 
to your life, I belleye it is in no danger.” 

“But this order, sire, this order! ” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


313 


“I believe that you question me, Monsieur ? ” said the 
King. 

“ I had arrested a criminal, Your Majesty has delivered 
him ; let Your Majesty’s will be done.” 

“ I have signed that order. Monsieur, because of reasons 
of State ; and then, I believe that terrible appearances mis- 
lead you.” 

“ Sire, you are being deceived ; I swear it.” 

“I do not doubt your sincerity,” said the King, “but 
Father Tellier answers for this man.” 

“Ah! Father Tellier is mixed up in this affair!” ex- 
claimed Hector. “ I understand then.” 

“ If you understand, Monsieur, that suffices, and you will 
not add a word more.” 

“ If it is Your Majesty’s good pleasure,” said Hector, “ I 
will keep silence ; but God grant that you do not have oc- 
casion to repent of your kindness. You do not know that 
man, sire.” 

“ I have suspicions ; but to prosecute him might result in 
a great scandal for the Church. Let this man finish in the 
shade of a cloister.” 

“ He will not remain there, sire.” 

“ Father Tellier has determined to force him to remain 
there, and you know the strength of Father Tellier’s char- 
acter.” 

“ I know it, sire. 

“ I have made the sacrifice of my Just resentment to his 
pious insistance; imitate me, Monsieur, and no longer 
think of this lugubrious history.” 

“ Sire, I will try to obey you.” 

“ And I will recognize you for your efforts in that direc- 
tion. Go now, and dwell in peace. Soon perhaps I will 
have occasion to give you. a more important mission. Hold 
yourself in readiness to perform it. — It is enough to tell 
you that you ought not to leave the court under any pre- 
text. — Adieu, and count upon your King.” 

Some minutes after this conversation, Hector quitted 
Versailles and took his way on horseback to the pavilion of 
Christine. 


CHAPTEE L. 

THE TWO MISTRESSES. 

It is now necessary to turn back in order to understand 
the events to follow and which will decide the lives of the 
different personages of this history. When M. de Cha- 
vailles reappeared at the court after his duel ,with M. de 
Fourquevaux, time, circumstances, and Paul Emile com- 
bined, had extinguished the fires of the Duchess de Berry. 
But if she had kept of this passing love, only a pale recol- 
lection, she was a woman, and consequently did not wish 


314 


TEE BOYAL CEASE. 


M. de Chavailles to imitate her in her forgetfulness. It wa« 
not then witliout a keen despite that she remarked his in- 
difference at their first meeting, and the glacial solemnity 
of his salute. Hector was very respectful in his demeanor 
toward her, but nothing more. It did not take the Princess 
long to perceive this change, and for the first time she con- 
ceived the thought of a secret rivalry which triumphed over 
all the prestige of her beauty, youth, and rank. She ques- 
tioned the ladies of the court, but could discover nothing. 
She felt certain, however, that Hector was in love, but 
with whom? M. de Fourquevaux might possibly know the 
name of this concealed mistress, but M. de Fourquevaux was 
upon his guard and did not speak. Since the conversation 
which he had had with the Duchesse de Berry concerning 
M. de Chavailles, Paul Simile had become very attentive to 
her. M. de Fourquevaux was one of those men who are 
constantly falling in love with some new beauty. The 
Duchess de Berry ought sooner or later to profit by the ad- 
vantages which a character thus formed presente^d to her. 
One day then, during the absence of M. de Chavailles, she 
was promenading in the beautiful gardens of Marly. The 
Duchess was walking with an indolent step; melancholy 
was impressed on her countenance: the languor which 
weighed down her ej’es lent a charm the more to her physi- 
ognomy; her feet kissed the earth, and the angel of grace 
and of pleasure seemed to envelope her with his wings. 
Paul Fmile was walking near her. 

“ I have come to reproach you,” she suddenly said, rais- 
ing her eyes to Paul Emile with a sad air. 

” Eeproach me ? What crime have I committed ? ” 

“ Eh! ” said she, ” it is not a question of a crime, though 
my heart has been cruelly wounded. Why have you not 
told me that M. de Chavailles had a mistress? ” 

It is not my secret,” Paul Emile stupidly replied. 

“ Eh? tny God ! is a love such a great mystery that it can 
not be confided to any one.” 

“Behold my excuse,” replied Paul Emile showing to the 
Princess her image reflected in the basin of a fountain. 
“ When one is near you one thinks only of you.” 

“That is egotism,” said the Princess; “you knew that 
M. de Chavailles was unhappy, and you told me nothing of 
it. Do you esteem my friendship as of such small Value 
that you do not even think to invoke it ? ” 

Paul Emile looked at the Duchess de Berry, adored her 
and was silent. She divined her victory in this mute con- 
templation and wished to push it to the end. 

“ But,” said she changing her tone, “ you bear him ill 
will then for the sword thrust which you gave him.” 

“ I! ” exclaimed Paul Emile. 

“ And of whom did you think I spoke ? But I will not 
scold you too much. M. de Chavailles has opened himself 
to me, but not as much as I should have desired. Tell me 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


316 


how things are, and perhaps he will not have occasion to 
repent having taken me for a confidant.” 

Paul Emile was conquered. With the best faith in the 
world, he had accepted the words of the Duchess, without 
for a moment suspecting their sincerity. Her smile was so 
soft, her look was so pure ! Could falsehood be allied to so 
much youth and beauty ? He ought to speak and he spoke. 

The day following this conversation, the Duchess de 
Berry took her way to the forest, accompanied by a small 
number of persons attached to her household. Paul Emile 
had not mentioned Christine’s name but had told her that 
the fair unknown dwelt in -Madame d’Argenton’s hunting 

S avilion. As a pretext for this matutinal promenade the 
>uchess had given the fine weather and her fantasy. It 
was more than was necessary. She went out through the 
Porte de la Breteche, entered on the plain, gained that part 
comprised between St. Nonu and Chavenay and stopped 
at the door of a pavilion whose windows opened to the 
south. It was very w’arm, and she said that she needed 
repose. A young woman appeared before her ; it was Chris- 
tine. The Duchess de Berry had never seen her, but she 
recognized her at the first glance. She looked at her curi- 
. ously and found her beautiful ; it was the most unfortunate 
thing that could possibly have happened to Christine. 

“ What can I do for you, Madame ? ” said Christine. 

“I have lost myself in the plain,” replied the Duchess, 
“ and I seek some place to repose myself.” 

“Enter, Madame, the house and all it holds is yours.” 

M. de Vareuil presented his hand to the Duchess de 
Berry who leaped from the saddle and followed Christine. 
They entered a garden and Christine conducted the Duch- 
ess to a summer house where a collation was served. They 
fell into a conversation and in the course of this conversa- 
tion the Duchess de Berry negligently let fall the name of 
M. de Chavailles. 

“Do you know M. de Chavailles?” Christine quickly 
said. 

“ But it seems to me that you also know him ? ” said the 
Duchess. 

“ Quite well.” 

“ You know him better than I do then.’ 

“ You see him at court, perhaps ? ” 

“At Versailles, Marly, and the Palais Eoyal M. de Cha- 
vailles is one of my friends.” 

The Duchess de Berry then questioned Christine as to 
her relations with M. de Chavailles. Christine concealed 
nothing, not even the fact that her father was associated in 
the political troubles which formerly agitated the Kingdom, 
and consequently was under a ban. The Duchess promised 
to intercede in their favor, and as she was taking her de- 
parture she said : 

“ It is useless to inform M. de Chavailles of our interview ; 


316 


TEE BOYAL CEASE. 


if I can do something for you it will be a surprise in store 
for him.” 

Christine promised, and the Duchess de Berry returned 
to Marly. She had no projects as yet, but her vanity was 
wounded and she resolved to avenge herself. 

Accident willed that one evening Hector should find him- 
self close to the Duchess de Berry when she was separated 
from the circle of courtiers. She softly raised her eyes, and 
lowering her voice, she said : 

“ Did you know there was a hunt to-morrow.” 

“ I did not know it, Madame.” 

“ I am happy to inform you of it ; you will undoubtedly 
go to it ? ” 

“ I fear that I can not do so.” 

“ iThe thing depends on you and you alone, nevertheless.” 

“No, Madame ; it is impossible this time.” 

“What! impossible, even if, perad venture, the chase 
should traverse the fltoile des Faunes ? ” 

The attack was direct, and this time Hector could not 
avoid it. He might perhaps deceive tlie Duchess and feign 
imaginary obstacles, but he preferred not to adopt a sub- 
terfuge ot this kind. He resolutely took his part and said : 

“ You speak of the ifctoile des Faunes, Madame. — alas! I 
have lost the right to recollect it.” 

“ That is to say you will not go in any case ? ” said she, 
her eyes hashing and the pallor of marble upon her lips. 

“I render justice to myself, Madame; the things which 
one does not merit it is necessary to forget.” 

The Duchess rose up and passed before Hector without 
replying. An opportunity to revenge herself was presented 
the same evening. The King was in his cabinet, and the 
Due de Berry and the princesses of the blood were around 
him. A seigneur was speaking of an encounter which he 
had had that morning. The encounter was with a poacher 
who, in spite of the severity of the edicts relating to the 
chase, had just killed a pheasant while on a marauding ex- 
pedition. 

“You are astonished, Monsieur?” said the Duchess de 
Berry, “I have had stranger encounters than that! so 
singular, in truth, that nothing would any longer surprise 
me.” 

This prelude excited the curiosity of the auditors, who 
pressed the Duchess with questions. * She suddenly turned 
to the King. 

“Know, sire,” she resumed, “that the police of your 
kingdom is strangely constituted. Ah! they talk to you of 
poachers. What is there surprising about that ? What is a 

S oacher, I pray you, in comparison with a criminal of 
tate.” 

Louis XIV. raised his head. 

“ What did you say ? ” he exclaimed. 

“The truth.” 


TEE ROYAL CEASE. 


317 


Louis XIV. frowned. 

“ My God ! it is not my fault if men who have fought Your 
Majesty push audacity so far as to choose for a residence 
habitations so near to royal palaces.” 

“This is grave, Madame; explain yourself,” said the 
King in an imperative tone. 

“ Willingly, sire. The other day, having lost myself in a 
promenade between Chavenay and St. Nonu, almost under 
the walls of Versailles, I have received the hospitality of a 
famous gentleman, who has borne arms against Your Maj- 
esty in tlie wars of the Fronde.” 

“ His name ? ” 

“ The Comte de Blettarius.” 

“He still lives!” said the King whose memory always 
preserved the recollection of those who had opposed him. 

He rang, and a blue boy came. 

“ Let the First President be informed at once that I desire 
to speak to him,” said he. 

M. de Mesmes was at Versailles and the King knew it. 

“ Monsieur,” said he to the First President of Parliament, 
who had soon presented himself, “ a criminal of State, the 
Comte de Blettarins, wlio was one of the instigators of the 
revolt in the time of Queen Anne, our mother, lives near 
here, between Chavenay and St. Nonu. It is scandalous 
that a man so guilty should not have yet been punished.” 

“Sire, I did not know — ” stammered M. de Mesmes. 

“Go, Monsieur, and let justice be done; prompt and 
severe justice, do you understand ? ” 

The First President went out and the Duchess shivered. 

The vengeance which she foresaw almost passed beyond 
her desire. 


CHAPTEE LI. 

THE SECRET MISSION. 

Nothing transpired on the outside of what had taken 
place in the cabinet of the king. Neither M. de Chavailles 
or Christine suspected the tempesf brewing on the horizon. 
One day, an officer of the palace came to warn M. de Cha- 
vailles that Louis XIV. was expecting him in his cabinet. 

Louis XIV. had just finished running over some papers 
when M. de Chavailles was annouhced to him. He pushed 
the papers aside, and saluted the young colonel with a 
grave and kindly air. 

“ I have sent for you. Monsieur,” said he, “in connection 
with an important affair which calls for the greatest secrecy 
and devotion; I have counted upon you.” 

Tlie King took up with a pensive air some of the papers 
which he had just pushed aside. 

“ I have here,” he pursued, “ dispatches from Flanders 
which have made me understand that the time has come 


318 


THE EOYAL CHASE. 


to take a definite resolution. You know Flander* and thd 
army, Monsieur ? ” 

“ Yes, sire ; but almost a year has elapsed since I have 
seen them.” 

“ Well ! Monsieur, since your departure things have grown 
worse. The best places are in the power of the enemy, the 
frontier is open ; our regiments, decimated by long wars, are 
reduced and discouraged ; the country is ruined ; but this 
evil, terrible though it is, is not the greatest. France is de- 
void of men and money; she had devoured all her re- 
sources; the most frightful misery everywhere prevails; 
from one end of the kingdom to the other there are only 
complaints and cries of distress. I have wished to make 
peace but I have been refused; I have offered to ac- 
cept any conditions, even the hardest. The enemy have 
seen that Louis XIV. gave way, and have wished to impose 
on me the most humiliating conditions. . Therefore the war 
will be continued. I may succumb in the struggle, but I 
will fall without shame, and the souls of my glorious ances- 
tors, Henry IV. and Francis I., will not have, at least, cause 
to blush even if they have cause to weep over the disasters 
of this beautiful kingdom.” 

M. de Chavailles was silent through respect and admira- 
tion. The King continued : 

“Now, Monsieur, a victory is necessary to us at any 
price. France can wait no longer, and I am weary of the 
enemy’s arrogance. M. de Villars will deliver battle to 
Prince Eugene. I have chosen you to bear him the order to 
do so.” 

“Ah! sire, such a mission will be the eternal pride of my 
house.” 

“ Do not make haste to thank me. Monsieur,” said the 
King, “ you may lose your life on this mission.” 

“That is nothing, sire.” 

This proud response pleased the King. 

“You will return, Monsieur, I hope,” said he; “and you 
will then see that the gratitude of the King equals the de- 
votion of his nobility.” 

Hector bowed. The .King chose among the papers a 
sealed letter. 

“ This letter, which I have written myself,” said he, 
“ gives you access to the Mar4chal. You will explain to him 
what causes make this battle a necessity. Lastly you will 
say to the Marechal that I wish it.” 

“ He will obey, sire.” 

“ As to you, Monsieur, you will reappear at Versailles on ly 
after the battle is gained or lost. No one besides yourself 
must bring me new's of it.” 

“ The news shall be good, if it pleases God, and I will 
try to biing it promptly.’^ 

“You will leave this night; a chaise has been ordered. 
You must be in Flanders before your absence is perceived 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


319 


at court. If you have affairs, make haste to arrange them 
The future belongs to God.” 

And the King stopped, but his look seemed to saj’’ : — 
“ Perhaps you will not return.” 

“Sire,” replied Hector dropping on one knee, “ do you 
permit me to address a prayer to Your Majesty ? ” 

“Speak, Monsieur.” 

“A sealed package will be placed in Your Majesty’s 
hands ; if I do not return, sire, will you kindly open it ? In 
it you will find the last prayer of a soldier who shall have 
died for you.” 

“ Whatever you ask will be performed. Go, now, and 
bring us back, if God permit, the safety of Prance.” 

Hector left the King with a light heart. His first care was 
to write a letter in which he explained to the King the posi- 
tion of M. de Blettarius and his daughter, and prayed him 
to watch over them. He sealed this letter, and sent it to 
the King who locked it up in a casket. Hector then 
mounted a horse and galloped to Christine’s, after having 
sent Coq-H4ron to see MM. de Kiparfonds and de Fourque- 
vaux to asked them to come to the pavilion as soon as pos- 
sible. Soon after Hector’s arrival at the pavilion, Paul 
i^lmile and Guy made their appearance. Charmed and sur- 
prised they overwhelmed Hector with questions. 

“ I cannot answer you now ; but I will do so later when 

I return.” 

Christine paled at these words. 

“You leave then ? ” she exclaimed. 

“ Yes ” 

“When?” 

“This night.” 

“ And you go ? ” asked M. de Fourquevaux. 

“ To Flanders.” 

“ Parbleu ! I believe that I shall go, too ! ” 

“Come then ; I shall be glad to have you.” 

M. de Riparfonds saw there was some secret in this 
prompt departure; but he understood that if M. de Cha- 
vailles did not explain his motives, it was because he could 
not. 

“ I must now,” added M. de Chavailles, “ speak to you of 
graver things. This journey which I am going to under- 
take will not detain me long, I imagine; but, if M. de Blet- 
tarius permit, I should like, before leaving, to unite my life 
to that of his daughter.” 

M. de Blettarius answered that it was the dearest hope of 
his life, and although he would have liked to himself con- 
duct his daughter to the altar in the broad light of day, 
he could find no objections to the marriage at the present 
time. Coq-Heron procured the almoner of the nearest chapel 
and M.M. de Riparfonds and de Fourquevaux served as 
witnesses. The marriage was then performed. After the 
ceremony Hector took Christine in his arms and embraced 


320 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


her. He was about to set out on a perilious journey the re- 
sult of which no one could tell. An inexpressible sadness 
weighed him down. When M. de Chavailles had pressed 
Christine to his heart for a long time, he snatched Jiimself 
from her. He took his way to the Porte de la Breteche for 
which he had a pass. When he reached it, he stopped ; the 
horses of Coq-Heron and M' de Pourquevaux were pranc- 
ing at his side. Hector looked across the plain. Christine 
had placed a lamp in a window of the pavilion, and this 
pharos shone in the darkness like hope in the heart of man. 
Suddenly a distant and vibrating sound traversed space. 
To this succeeded a similar sound in a weaker tone. Hector 
had become quite pale ; he seized Paul Emile by the arm. 

“ Did you hear that ? ” he exclaimed. 

“ What ? ” asked that gentleman with an absent air. 

“ Those two cries.” 

“Oh! some shepherd seeking his sweetheart.” 

“ But it seems to me though that the sweetheart replied,” 
said Coq-Heron. 

“You thfuk so ? ” said Hector. 

“What then do you think it was.” 

“ Nothing— Those cries seemed to come fi*om the plain.” 

“ The deer go there to drink and the shepherds go there 
to make love.” 

“Ah!” said Hector, “those two cries have made me 
tremble.” 

Paul fimile shrugged his shoulders. 

“ Lovers are fools. In every sound they hear the voice of 
their mistress,” said he. 

Hector scanned the horizon. The lamp still shone at the 
same place, immovable and pale; no noise any longer 
troubled the silence. He sent a last sign in the direction of 
the light, and set spurs to his horse. The chaise was wait- . 
ing for Hector at Marly. He and Paul Emile entered it, 
and the postilion launched his horses upon the route to 
Flanders. Two days after. Hector handed the King’s letter 
to Marechal de Villars. After he had finished reading this 
letter, the Marechal looked at the young colonel. 

“ You have a communication to make to me. Monsieur,” 
said he ; “ I am listening.” 

“Monsieur le Marechal,” said Hector, “I have His 
Majesty’s order to pray you to deliver battle to the enemies 
of the King with the briefest delay possible.” 

“ That depends on the opportunity,” replied the old 
Duke. 

“ If the opportunity does not present itself. His Majesty’s 
will is to create it. 

“ It is well, Monsieur; I will deliver battle.” 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


321 


CHAPTER LII. 

THE tiger’s awakening. 

It was Christine who had uttered the two cries which M. 
de Chavailles had heard. This is what had taken place : 
while Hector and M. de Fourquevaux were riding through 
the forest of Marly, a troop of men, some on horseback 
and some on foot, suddenly surrounded the hunting pavilion 
of Madame d’xirgenton. The men had advanced noiselessly. 
Some scattered themselves around the pavilion, and others, 
under the leadership of him. who appeared to be their chief, 
grouped themselves near the gate ; a valet came and opened 
it. 

“In the name of the King,” said the man who had 
knocked, “conduct us to your master.” 

The valet, trembling with friglit, directed his course to- 
ward the pavilion, and the chief followed him. M. de 
Blettarius was talking with M. de Riparfonds on a small 
room on the ground floor. The valet, more dead than alive, 
opened the door, and, without speaking, pointed out the 
old gentle’man to the stranger. 

N “ It is to the Comte de Blettarius that I have the honor of 
speaking? ” said the latter. 

“Yes, Monsieur,” replied the Comte rising up. 

M. de Riparfonds turned quickly, looked at the stranger, 
and recognized the Chevalier. 

“ What did you ask ? ” said he immediately. 

The Chevalier saluted him coldly. 

“ I have no affair with you,” said he; “if then you per- 
mit it, it is to M. de Blettarius that I will address myself.” 

“Speak, Monsieur,” said the old man. 

“ I have an order from his Majesty to arrest you.” 

“To arrest M. de Blettarius!” exclaimed M. de Ripar- 
fonds. 

“ Yes, Monsieur.” 

“ It is impossible.” 

The Chevalier drew the King’s order from his pocket. 

“M. de Blettarius,” said he,” is accused of high treason. 
It is my mission to conduct him to the Bastille, awaiting 
the action of Parliament.” 

“Monsieur, I am ready,” replied the old gentleman. 

Christine had heard a confused noise and had seen black 
shadows pass through the garden. She descended to the 
room where the three inbu'locutors were, just as M. de 
Blettarius was replying to the Chevalier. Christine recog- 
nized her enemy, understood what had taken place, and 
threw herself into her father’s arms. The Chevalier saluted 
her. 

“ The presence of Mile, de Blettarius recalls to me,” said 
21 


i 


322 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


he, “ that the order of which I am the bearer concerns her 
also.” 

“ By what title are you the bearer of this order, and who 
gives you the right to execute it ? ” exclaimed M. de Eipar- 
fonds. 

“ This commission which I hold.” 

M. de Eiparfonds took the commission from the hands of 
the Chevalier. It bore the name of Blaise Guillaume 
Pailot, exempt of the King. 

“You have not always borne this name,” said M. de 
Eiparfonds. 

“That is my affair and not yours. Monsieur; the com- 
mission is to me, the order of arrest is in good form. Here 
is M. de Blettarius and his daughter; it is my dutj" to ar- 
rest them, and I arrest them.” 

M. de Eiparfonds’ usual sang-froid deserted him. He 
stamped impatiently. 

“You will not arrest this gentleman,” said he. 

“ Act as you choose, Monsieur, but I will make the arrest 
just the same.” 

The Chevalier called, and four men appeared at the door, 
armed with swords and pistols. 

“ Wretch ! ” exclaimed the Duke carrying his hand to the 
guard of his sword. 

M. de Blettarius stopped him. 

“ No violence. Monsieur le Due ; it would ruin everything ; 
mount a horse and go to Marly, and if God permits the 
King’s heart to be touched by our misfortunes, bring us 
news of it to the Bastille to-morrow.” 

“ You are right. Monsieur,” said M. de Eiparfonds. “ Go 
then, Monsieur, and count upon me.” 

Guy traversed the hall with a superb air and went out- 
side of the pavilion. 

^ “ Hello! some one! ” said he. 

The valet who had opened the door' to the Chevalier ap- 
peared. 

“ Bring me the horse from the stable,” said the Duke. 

During this short exchange of words, the Chevalier had 
made a mysterious sign to one of the men stationed at both 
sides of the door. This man advanced. 

“ You understood ? ” the Chevalier said to him in a low 
voice. 

“Yes,” replied the man, who was no other than Coqueli- 
cot. 

“If M. de Eiparfonds sees the King, everything is lost.” 

“I fear so.” 

“ He must not see him then.” ' 

“ How prevent him ? ” 

“ By not permitting him to leave.” 

“ That is just.” 

“Therefore, you will detain him, whether or no.” 
“Agreed.” 


THE ROYAL CHA^E. 323 

M. de Eiparfonds again api;)cared, and Coqiielicot went 
out. 

“M. de Comte.” said the Chevalier, I am waiting for 
you.” 

“ I follow you, Monsieur.” 

Christine threw a cloak over her shoulders and followed 
her father, suspended to his arm. 

“ Hope,” M. de Eiparfonds said to him ; “ at dawn I shall 
have seen the King, and if there is still some appearance of 
justice upon earth, you will be free at noon.” 

“ Forget me,” replied the father, “ speak to the King only 
of my daughter.” 

“Hello! And that horse? ” exclaimed the Duke descend- 
ing the perron. 

“Monseigneur,” said the trembling valet, “ a man has 
just taken off the saddle and cut the bridle. I believe that he 
has even. beaten me a little.” 

“ Where is this man ? ” asked the Duke pale with anger. 

“Behold him. Monseigneur.” 

The valet pointed out Coqiielicot, who was leaning negli- 
gently against a tree. 

“So you are the person who prevented this man from 
getting my horse ready ? ” said M. de Eiparfonds 

“ I am the person.” 

“Then you are going to saddle him yourself, and 
promptly.” 

“And if I do nothing of the kind ? ” 

“ I will slash your face — Make haste now.” 

Coquelicot did not budge. 

“Our orders are,” said he, “ to not let anyone leave the 
pavilion — you see that it is impossible.” 

The Duke lost patience and struck Coquelicot in the 
face with a whip which he had in his hand. Coquelicot 
!)ounded forward and plunged his poniard up to the hilt in 
M. de Eiparfonds’ breast. The Duke fell heavily upon the 
grass. 

Christine uttered a terrible cry— that cry which M. de 
Chavailles had heard— and wished to run to the Duke. The 
CTievalier seized her and dragged her away. She uttered a 
feeble cry and fainted ; two men took possession of M. de 
Blettarius p the ravishers threw both of them into a chaise 
which was waiting some hundred steps away. 

Toward noon the next day Cydalise arrived at the pavil- 
ion. She pushed open the garden gate and saw no one. No 
one was in the pavilion, whose doors and windows had re- 
mained open. Following a path, she remarked, at the foot 
of a tree, indications of footsteps on the turf. She stopped. 
A hat was lying on the grass ; bending to pick it up, she 
observed that the bottom of her white dress was humid 
and red. She uttered a cry. The silence which surrounded 
her frightened her, and she called aloud. The valet, who 
had concealed himself in a corner after the death of M. do 


324 THE nOYAL CHAISE. 

Eiparfonds and the departure of the Chevalier, left his 
retreat. 

“ Ah! Mademoiselle, it is you! ” said this man. 

“ My God ! what has taken place ? ” asked Cydalise. 

The valet related to the comedienne all the events of the 
night, from the departure of Hector to the disappearance 
of Christine. Cydalise lost herself in conjectures as to the 
cause of this affair; but, recovering from her stupor, she 
entered the carriage again and went to see M. Voyer d’ 
Argenson. 

“I divine the motive of your visit,” the Lieutenant of 
Police said to her with a serious air; “ but as things are 
situated now, the best advice I can give you is to no longer 
mix yourself with them.” 

Cydalise shook her head. 

“Answer me frankly: what have my friends to fear ? ” 
said she. 

“ Everything.” 

The Lieutenant of Police informed the comedienne that 
Parliament had taken up the affair of M. de Blettarius by 
order of the King, and that there was no longer any hope. 

“ Do you understand ? ” said he. 

Cydalise shivered. 

“ So you believe they are lost ? ” she replied. 

“ Only a miracle can save them.” 

“ If you know a means, indicate it to me, and I will ob- 
tain this miracle.” 

“ M. de Chavailles is said to enjoy the King’s favor to an 
unusual degree. Let M. de Chavailles speak to the King, 
but where is he ? ” 

“ I know.” 

“Ah! ” said M. Voyer d’Argensou with a curious air; “in 
that case, I advise you to see him.” 

“ It is impossible to see him, but I will write to him.” 

“ The sooner the better.” 

“ You make me tremble.” 

“ M. de Blettarius is at the Bastille. He will be trans- 
ferred to the Chatelet to-morrow or the day after; the 
Sentence will no doubt be pronounced soon.” 

“ But,” exclaimed Cydalise, “ who has informed the King 
as to M. de Blettarius’ retreat ? ” 

“The Duchess de Berry,” the Lieutenant of Police said 
in^a low tone. 

Cydalise returned home, wrote a long letter to M. de 
Chavailles, and confided it to a devoted servant, with orders 
to carry it to Flanders without delay. 

One evening as M. de Chavailles was promenading before 
his tent, he saw arrive a cavalier covered with dust and 
mud, who handed him a letter. 

“ Ah! M. le Marquis,” said this man, “I have been going 
from bivouac to bivouac for thirty-six hours all the while 
seeking for you.” ^ 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


325 


Hector broke the seal, read the first lines, and became 
pale as death. M. de Fourquevaux, who was standing near 
by, grew frightened at this livid palor. 

“ What is the matter '? ” ho asked. 

“ Christine is carried off and M. de Biparfonds is dead.” 

“Dead!” repeated M. de Fourquevaux, “and who has 
killed him.” 

Hector handed him Cydaiise’s letter. The comedienne 
related rapidly all that she had learnt from M. de Blettarius’ 
valet and what M. Voyer d’Argenson had said. The name 
of the Duchess de Berry came at the end of the narrative, 
it was a ray of light for Paul l^rnile. 

“ Ah 1 wretch that I am,” exclaimed he ; “ 'tis I who have 
destroyed you.” 

Hector looked at him. 

“Draw your sword and kill me,” said the Comte; “fas- 
cinated by that siren, I have related everything to her. 
She has taken vengeance upon Christine for your disdain.” 

“ If the evil comes from you, my friend, I pardon you,” 
replied Paul Emile extending his hand to his friend. 

“I do not pardon myself,” exclaimed the count with a 
somber air, “ and if I do not succeed in returning Christine 
to you, I will lose my life in the attempt.” 

Cydaiise’s letter finished by these words : “ Come quickly 
— an hour’s delay ma 3 ’' ruin all. — It is a question of Christine, 
and 3 ’ou alone can save her.” 

Hector wished to fly to Christine at once, but Coq-Heron 
implored him in the most pathetic terms not to dishonor 
himself thus on the eve of a battle. The venerable soldier 
threw himself on his knees and uncovered his breast to 
Hector. The face of Coq-H6i-on, crowned. by white hair, 
was profoundly move<l. A silence of some moments fol- 
lowed this action so simple and so great, after which M. de 
Chavailles extended his hand to Coq-Hth'on. 

“You are right, my friend,” he said to him, “rise up, I 
will remain.” 

Coq-Heron kissed his master’s hand ; the eyes of the poor 
soldier were filled with tears. 

“ Now,” said Hector, “ get ready our horses. I have ob- 
served the lines of Prince Eugene to-day ; he is preparing 
some movement. I wish to make certain of it, and if eveiy- 
thing is as I hope, the battle will take place to-morrow.” 

“ But, if things do not go as you hope ? ” said Paul lilmile. 

“ The battle will take place just the same ; it is necessary,” 
Hector coldly replied. 

The horses were brought, both of them mounted and 
plunged into the night. 


326 


TEE ROYAL CEASE, » 


CHAPTEK LIIL 

THE FIFTH ACT. 

Hector and Paul Simile swam their horses across the 
Escaut and directed their course toward the army of Prince 
Eugene. A great commotion reigned around the camp. It 
seemed that the entire army of the Prince was changing its 
quarters. 

“ Well,” said Hector to Paul Emile; “I believe that the 
hour has come.” 

“So it seems to me,” replied the Comte. 

The two young men pushed on to Marchiennes, scoured 
the country generally, and, again traversing the Escaut, 
regained the quarters of the French troops. That pale 
light which precedes the dawn began to whiten the horizon. 

“ Go to Marechal de Villars, if you please,” said Hector 
to Paul Emile, “ and tell him wdiat you have seen ; I am 
going to see Marechal de Montesquion.” 

The result was that following Hector’s advice M. de 
Montesquion attacked Denain, a city held by the.enemy, 
and carried it. This success had a wonderful effect on the 
French army, and Mareclial de Villars made Hector the 
bearer of his dispatches to the King. Hector, accompanied 
by Coq-Heron and Paul Emile, arrived at Versailles on the 
27th of July, 1702. Hector was introduced into the King’s 
cabinet. 

“ The battle has taken place. Monsieur ? ” said the King. 

“Yes, sire; Your Majesty’s troops have attacked this 
evening at Denain ; Prince Eugene is in flight.” 

“ It is a victory, Monsieur! ” 

“A glorious victory, sire, and I come, according to Y^'our 
Majesty’s orders, to bring you news of it.” 

“ France is saved.— Oh 1 my God, be blessed! ” exclaimed 
the King uncovering himself. 

Louis XIV. desired to know all the details of the battle. 
After Hector had related them, the King said : 

“ Monsieur, if you have any request to make, speak ; how 
can I refuse one who serves liis King so well ? ” 

“Sire,” replied Hector, “does Your Majesty recollect a 
package which I had the honor to hand to you before. my 
departure for Flanders.” 

“ It is there. Monsieur,” said the King pointing to a 
casket. 

“ AVell ! Sire, I beg Your Majesty to make acquaintance 
with its contents.” 

“At once.” 

“Yes, sire.” 

The King opened the casket and drew from it the letter 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


327 


which it contained. On reading the first lines the King’s 
countenance became troubled. 

“ M. de Blettarius! ” he exclaimed. 

“ Yes, sire,” replied Hector dropping on one knee, “ I ask 
of Your Majesty the pardon of an offender; his daughter 
is my wife, sire ! ” 

The King became very pale. 

“ My God,” said he, “ I am afraid that it is too late.” 

Hector leaped to his feet. 

“ Monsieur,” resumed the KMng, “ I can refuse you noth- 
ing, but perhaps you are ignorant of whafhas taken place 
in your absence.” 

“I know it.” 

“ Then fly and do not lose a minute An hour! an hour 

at this moment, means life or death.” 

Hector shivered. Louis XIV. had just taken up a slip of 
paper, and had signed after having rapidly written some 
words. 

“ Monsieur,” he added, “ take this paper, saddle the best 
horse in my stables, and fly.” 

Hector kissed the King’s hand and went out. Three 
minutes after, he was on the road to Paris. Paul Emile 
and Coq-Heron accompanied him. On reaching Paris 
Hector pushed straight on to the Chatelet. Passing the 
Quai du Louvre, he encountered numerous groups of people. 
In the neighborhood of the Place de Grave the crowd was 
more compact. Night had fallen, and a thousand heads 
could be seen moving about, while a confused murmur rose 
up from the place. The three cavaliers clove the ranks of 
this crowd in motion,' like robust swimmers breasting the 
stormy surf. When they debauched upon the place, a 
frightful spectacle met their eyes. 

A scaffold rose up in the middle of the place, lit up by a 
dozen torches borne by soldiers on horseback. Other 
soldiers, with muskets upon their shoulders, surrounded 
the scaffold. Three men, the executioner and his two as- 
sistants, were walking upon the platform, xi shiver tra- 
versed the body of M. de Chavailles. He set spur to his 
horse, and, at the risk of crushing the passers-by, he rushed 
toward the scaffold. His two companions followed him, and 
the crowd parted violently. 

“Eh 1 my gentleman, where are you going ? ” said he who 
coTiimanded the troop of archers. 

Upon the platform was to be seen a pool of blood which 
ran between the planks and fell to the ground drop by 
drop. 

“ Monsieur,” said Hector, “ who has just been executed ? ” 

“ A criminal of state accused of high treason,” replied the 
officer. 

“ Hold, my gentleman, you can read his name, hero, upon 
this paper,” said the executioner. 


328 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


Hector read in the light of a torch the name of M. de 
Blettarius. The blood congealed in his veins. 

“ Morbleu ! ” said Paul Emile, “ if I do not kill the Cheva- 
lier, he shall kill me! ” „ , . ^ „ 

“ And do you know what has become of his daughter ? 
asked M. de Chavailles. 

“ I do not know,” replied the captain. 

Hector asked no further questions but pushed on at a 
headlong pace to the Chatelet. He feared that he would 
arrive too late to save Christine. The order of which he 
was a bearer opened to him the doors of the prison. At the 
name of Mile, de Blettarius, the jailor shook his head. 

“She has not been here since this morning,” said he. 

“ Where is she ? ” 

“At St. Lazare, perhaps.” 

This sinister name gave M. de Chavailles the vertigo.^ 
“But the exempt who came for her,” added the jailor, 
“can tell you better than I what has become of this poor 
girl.” 

“ The name of this exempt ? ” 

“Blaise Guillaume Paillot.” 

“ And he lives ? ” 

“ In the Hue Tiquetonne.” 

Hector set spurs to his horse and flew to the Bue Tiqiie- 
tonne. A grocer pointed out to him the house of the ex- 
empt. A woman, carrying a child, received him. On seeing 
the officer, she grew pale. 

“ Is Blaise Paillot here ? ” asked Hector. 

“ Monsiegneur, he has gone out,” replied the woman. 

“ He must be found— I have an order of the King.” 

At this word, the woman trembled in all her limbs, and 
falling at Hector’s knees, she said : 

“ Ah If Monsiegneur, do not ruin us.” , 

“Explain yourself! ” exclaimed Paul Emile. 

“ Monsiegneur, a man came here some days ago just as 
my husband had received an order to arrest a gentleman 
named M. de Blettarins— ” 

“ Afterwards ? ” 

“ He offered my husband a thousand louis for his com- 
mission of exempt and order of arrest, swearing to return 
the commission in twenty days. The sight of this gold 
dazzled ray husband — ” 

“ He has given way ? ” 

“Alas! yes. Monseigneur. But after the sale, fear has 
seized him and he has fled.” 

“ But the man who purchased the order of arrest ? ” 

“ I do not know him.” 

Hector left without replying. As he rode away he said to 
Paul Emile : 

“ This exempt is the Chevalier.” 

“ Either he or the devil! ” replied the Comte. 

“ Poor Christine,” murmured Hector, 


THE ROYAL CHASE, 


329 


And setting spurs to his horse, he said : 

“ To St. Lazare.” 

The three cavaliers flew toward the horrible prison. 
Christine had left it two hours before. 

Hector passed his icy hand over his forehead, and said : 

“She is not far off, I will find her. You, Coq-Heron, go 
to Brotlier Jean’s, at the cabaret in the Rue des Vieux 
Augustins ; I am going to see Cydalise.” 

“ Ah! you think that Cydalise knows something? ” asked 
Paul Eniile. 

“Cydalise is a woman.” 

“That is just. A woman is worth three men in matters 
of trickery.” 

“The rendezvous is upon the Pont Neuf,” said Hector 
addressing himself to Coq-Heron. 

“ But if I encounter Brother Jean at the cabaret ? ” 

“ Then bring him straight to Cydalise’s.” 

The soldier pushed on in the direction of the Rue des 
Vieux Augustins, and the two gentlemen directed their 
course toward the Rue de Tournon. They found Cydalise 
in a pitiable state. As soon as she saw Hector, she threw 
herself in his arms. 

“My God! wliat has become of her? ” exclaimed Hector. 

“ You do not know ? ” 

“ No ; I do not.” 

“ She has left for Louisiana or Canada, I know not which, 
with t]\Q jilles per dues whom the police pick up in the streets 
for the colonies.” 

Hector uttered a terrible cry ; he was afraid of becoming 
mad. 

“ My God ! ” said he, “ take my life and save her! ” 

“Alas!” said Cydalise, “no human power can do any- 
thing for her.” 

“Read! ” said Hector showing the order of the King to 
the comedienne. 

“ Eh! come then ! ” exclaimed Cydalise witli eyes radiant 
with hope. “ What I do not know, the Lieutenant of Police 
will tell you. With this order, you can obtain anything, 
can you not ? ” 

“ Anything I wish.” 

“ Well. M. d’Argenson will tell you to what point Chris- 
tine is being taken. You throw yourself in pursuit of 
lier— ” 

“ She is saved! ” said Hector embracing the comedienne. 

“ Ely ! fly ! and may God guide you ! ” exclaimed Cydalise, 
tears filling her eyes. 

The two cavaliers passed by the Pont Neuf and found 
Coq-Heron. He had been handed a note at the cabaret in 
the Rue des Vieux Augustins through which Brother Jean, 
who foresaw the return of M. de Chavailles, gave him a 
rendezvous at M. Voyer d’Argenson ’s. 

“So much the better! ” said Paul £mile. 


330 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


Brother Jean was promenading before the door of the 
Lieutenant of Police. 

“ Pardieu ! ” said he on seeing the three cavaliers, “ I was 
thinking of you— I have some news.” 

“ Of the Chevalier ? ” said Paul Emile. 

“ And of whom else did you think it was ? ” 

Hector, who was about 'to pass through the door of the 
hotel, stopped. 

“ Have you seen him ? ” said he. 

“ Yes ” 

“When?” 

“This morning. He wore the uniform of an exempt.” 

“ And you have not killed him ? ” exclaimed Coq-H4ron. 

“ No, Mordieu ! one does not kill a man flanked by ten 
men. But I know where he is going and that is sufficient.” 

“ Y’ou know where he is going ? ” said Hector. 

“ He is going to Havre ? ” replied Brother Jean. 

“ Where the Chevalier goes Christine goes also,” ex- 
claimed M. de Chavailles. 

“ A woman ! parbleu ! I thought I saw one in the chaise 
which he escorted.” 

“ Enough, let us make haste to pursue him.” 

Brother Jean conducted them to the stables of the police, 
where, upon the presentation of the order which Hector 
carried, they were given four fresh horses. 

“Forward!” exclaimed Hector as soon as he had 
mounted. 

A thousand sparks burst from the pavement, and the four 
horses, pricked by the spur at the same time, flew with un- 
exempled rapidity. 


CHAPTER LIV. 

TOO. LATE. 

A CHAISE was Journeying over the route to Normandy. 
The Chevalier rode beside the portiere, accompanied by 
some soldiers of the mounted police. Through precaution, 
he had placed Coquelicot at the head of three men to serve 
as a rear guard. 

“ If they should happen to come up with us,” he had said 
to him at the moment of departure, “you have muskets and 
balls— do not spare them.” 

The Chevalier well understood that the last act in the 
drama was going to be played. When M. de Chavailles left 
Paris, it was almost midnight. The Chevalier had two or 
three hours the start of him. But a carriage and soldiers 
heavily mounted could not go as rapidly as cavaliers riding 
at full speed. At dawn they passed Nantes and were told 
that the chaise was not more than an hour ahead of them. 
At the end of a quarter of an hour, it seemed to them that a 
black point was visible on the horizon. They hurried on, 


THE BOTAL CEASE. 


331 


but at the turn of the road they no longer saw anything. 
The horses devoured space. Suddenly four shots were 
fired. A ball cut off the branch of an elm by the side of Coq- 
Heron ; another traversed Brother Jean’s hat. Paul Simile’s 
horse made a violent start. Hector leaped in the saddle. 

“Are you wounded ? ” Brother Jean asked him. 

“No,” replied M. de Chavailles leaning forward on his 
horse. Four cavaliers then left their hiding-place and ap- 
peared in the road. The last one who made his appearance 
was priming his gun. 

Brother Jean put his musket to his cheek and fired. 
The man who was priming his gun opened his arms, threw 
away his gun, fell upon the croup of his horse and rolled to 
ground. In some bounds the four cavaliers reached the 
dead body. Brother Jean leaned over, in order to see bet- 
ter. 

“ It is Coquelicot! ” said he. 

“Good! the Chevalier is not far off,” murmured M. de 
Fourquevaux. 

Just as he had finished speaking his horse fell. 

“ Mordieu ! ” said he rising up. 

One of the four balls had ploughed its way through his 
horse’s neck. Hector, Brother Jean and Coq-Heron had 
stopped. _ 

“ The poor beast is dead,” said Paul Simile. 

“ Maiter Jean, you will have to take me up behind you.” 

“ Take my horse,” said Hector, who was swaying in the 
saddle. 

He wished to descend and fell upon his knees. Coq- 
Heron uttered a cry and leaped to the ground. 

“The ball has struck me here,” said he placing his hand 
upon his breast. “I have said nothing, J hoped to arrive 
in time. My strength is gone. Paul Emile, take this order 
and fly.” 

He made an effort, ?ind, sustained by Coq-Heron, he sat 
down at the foot of a tree by the side of the road. The old 
soldier was more dead than alive and trembled in all his 
limbs. 

“Do not lose a minute, “said Hector, “and do not think 
of me. Fly, and bring Christine to me.” 

‘ Coq-H4ron mounted his horse, picked up the reins, and 
rode rapidly away. 

Paul ^lmile pressed Hector’s hand and followed the sol- 
dier. Brother Jean did likewise. 

This whole scene had not lasted more than three or four 
minutes. The cavaliers soon regained the distance they had 
lost. One of the men who accompanied Coquelicot had rid- 
den forward and notified the Chevalier that he was pursued 
just as the chaise had stopped to relay. 

“ Harness the horses 1 ” exclaimed the Chevalier. 

But Christine had heard the words of the fugitive and 
leaped out of the chaise, divining that M. de Chavailles was 


332 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


coming to her aid. The Chevalier looked with inquietude 
in the direction of Paris; he thought he saw a black point 
which seemed gradually to grow larger. He turned round 
and saw Christine standing in the road. He uttered a cry 
of rage and rushed toward her. Christine wished to lly, but 
she fell to lier knees half dead with terror and exhaustion. 
The Chevalier picked her up and threw her in the chaise. 

“ Forward ! ” the Chevalier then cried. 

The carriage shook ; but, at the first turn of the wheels, 
a shot resounded, and one of the horses, struck full in the 
body, rolled over in its harness. The chaise stopped. The 
soldiers turned back and saw a man throwing away a 
musket; it was Coq-Heron who had just fired. The Chev- 
alier became livid. He opened the portiere and attempted to 
throw Christine upon his horse and carry her away. But 
Christine struggled with the courage of despair. 

“Order of the King! ” cned M. de Fourquevaux who now 
came up. 

“An order of the King?” said the Chevalier, “ I have 
also an order of the King.” 

“ Upon my word I believe that he reasons,” said Brother 
Jean pointing a pistol at the Chevalier.” 

“Hello! Brother Jean, none of these pleasantries before 
me,” said Paul Emile. 

“Monsieur,” he continued addressing himself to the 
Chevalier, “ I wish to do you the honor to fight with you ; 
unsheathe then, if jmu please, and let us finish the mat- 
ter.” 

The Chevalier was surrounded by Brother Jean, Coq- 
Heron, and Paul Emile. All retreat was cut off. The sol- 
diers did not appear disposed to aid him. The Chevalier 
understood that, victor or vanquished, he was lost. It was 
not then a duel he desired, but a means of flying so as to 
take up the struggle later on, and it was on this subject he 
was reflecting. ^ 

“ Did you hear me ? ” said Paul £lmile. 

“Perfectly, Monsieur; but you see that with a horse of 
this species it is impossiblle for me to fight in the manner 
of the ancient knights.” 

“ Don’t let that worry you! we are going to fight on the 
ground.” 

Paul Emile leaped from the saddle ; but just as his feet 
touched the ground, the Chevalier seized him by the hair, 
and, drawing a pistol from his pocket, placed it to his head 
and fired. Paul Emile fell to the ground without uttering 
a cry. The Chevalier disembarassed of this enemy, buried 
his si)urs in his horse’s flanks ; but Brother Jean was there. 
He seized the bridle of the horse and struck the horse with 
his i)oniard with such violence that the animal fell. The 
Chevalier leaped into the road. After what he had just 
done, he could no longer hope for quarter; but, before dyi 
ing, he wished to finish his vengeance. Christine was close 


THE nOYAL CHASE. 


333 


to the chaise, by the side of Coq-H4roD, who sustained her 
with one hand and held a sword with the other. The Chev- 
alier raised a second pistol to her. 

“ Ah ! scoundrel ! ” exclaimed Brother Jean. 

And he leaped like a wolf at the the Chevalier’s throat. 
The shock disturbed the shot and the ball was lost in space. 
The Chevalier roared with anger and grappled with Brother 
Jean, At this place the road bordered upon an abrupt slope 
which was washed by the Seine fifty feet below. A parapet 
was built along the route at this point and in this parapet 
was a breach. The struggle of the two adversaries drew 
them toward this breach ; at each shock the distance from 
it was diminished. Two or three more steps, and they 
would no longer have the ground beneath their feet. Sud- 
denly the Chevalier uttered a cry; Brother Jean’s poniard 
had just disappeared in his side. 

“ Die! ” cried Brother Jean raising his arm. 

But the Chevalier seized the hermit by the waist, and, by 
a last and violent shock, pushed him into the abyss witii 
him. Their feet failed at the same time and they disap- 
peared together. Coq-Heron ran to the border of the road 
and leaned over. The Chevalier and Brother Jean were ex- 
tended side by side upon the rocks, immoval^ile and muu- 
lated. 

Coq-Heron went to Christine and said : 

“Come, Madame, M. le Marquis is"waiting for us.” 

Hector, sefrted on the border of the road, was counting the 
-.minutes. The pulsations of his heart were growing feebler ; 
a red cloud sometimes passe^l before his eyes, and he felt a 
death like sweat bedew his forehead. 

“ Will she come I will she come 1 ” he was saying, his looks 
fixed upon the dusty road. 

Twenty times he imagined that he heard the sound of 
horses’ feet, and twenty times he fell back upon the grass, 
deceived in his expectation. At last the gallop of two horses 
caused him to raise himself up on his elbow. He was not 
deceived this time: it was Christine and Coq-Heron. He 
opened his iJrms, and Christine threw herself into. them. 

“ Where is Paul Emile ? ” asked Hector. 

“ He is dead,” replied Coq-Heron. 

“And Brother Jean 

“ Dead also.” 

Hector let fall his head upon Christine’s shoulder. 

“All dead! all those who have loved me; except you,” 
said he extending his hand to Coq-Heron. 

Coq-Heron turned aside his face to hide the fact that he 
was weeping. 

Hector was silent for some moments ; he breathed with 
extreme difficulty. The sun rose up at this moment and 
covered the country with its rays ; the sky was blue, the 
day promised to be charming.- The larks sang in the air. 


331 • 


THE ROYAL CHASE. 


Hector looked at the horizon bathed in light and pressed 
Christine in his feeble arms. 

“ It would have been sweet to live! ” said he. 

His head, raised for a moment, fell back upon his breast; 
a slight shiver agitated him. Christine covered his fore- 
head with passionate kisses. 

“ My God! My God! ”'said she, “take pity on ns.” 

Slie felt Hector’s hands growing cold. Hector raised up 
his lowered eyelids and looked at the sobbing Coq-H^ron. 

“ Do you recollect"the gipsy ? ” he murmured ; “she was 
right.” 

Coq-H4ron wished to reply; but, about to open his 
mouth, he burst into sobs. 

“Too late! too late! ” murmured Hector. 

He embraced Christine, closed his eyes, rested his fore- 
head more heavily upon her shoulder, and died. 

******** 

Some minutes after, Christine’s chaise, which Coq-H4ron 
had ordered brought back, stopped before them. The old 
servitor himself carried his master’s body to it and Christine 
mounted after him. 

“ MadaniQ,” Coq-Heron then said, “where must I take 
you ? ” 

“ To the convent of the Carmelites in the Faubourg St. 
Jacques,” she replied. 

When she had arrived there, Christine took Coq-Heron ’s 
hand. 

“And you,” said she, “where are you going ? ” 

“To Flanders — I shall find some ball there which will 
kill me.” 

Each of them went to seek a refuge against life ; Christine 
in prayer, Coq-Heron in death. 


THE END. 


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PAOK 


Sheridan’s Ride. T. B. Read 3 

Barbara Frietchie. J. G. Whittier. ... 4 
Hamlet’s Soliloquy on Death. Shaks- 

peare 4 

The Ship of State. Longfellow 6 

War. E. B. Browning 6 

Cato on the Immortality of the Soul. 

Addison 6 

My Country. Anonymous 5 

Cardinal Wolsey’s Farewell to Power. 

Shakspeare 4 

To My Mother, Forrester 6 

What makes a Hero. Henry Taylor. . 7 

America. Bryant 7 

The Felon. M. G. Lewis 7 

Ode to Fear. Collins 8 

Dorkins' Night. Anonymous 8 

Warren’s Address, J Pierpont 9 

Return of the Dead. Proctor 9 

To a Skull. Anonymous 9 

The Pauper’s Death-Bed. Caroline B. 

Southey 10 

The Glove and the Lion. Leigh Hunt. 10 
Marco Bozzaris. i- itz-Greene Halleck. 11 

The Last Man. Campbell 11 

Kearney at Seven Pines. E. C, Stead- 
man 12 

The Gambler’s W’ife. Coates 13 

The Battle of Fontenoy. Thomas 

Davis 14 

Over the River. ' Nancy A. M. Priest. . 15 

Life. Henry King 15 

Bivouac of the Dead. Theodore 

O’Hara. 15 

When the Tide Goes Out. Anony- 
mous 16 

The Drunkard’s Dream. C. W. Deni- 
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Nobody’s Child. Philo H. Child 17 

One in Blue and One in Gray. Wm. 

Ward 17 

Jif^n was made to Mourn. Robert 

Burns 18 

The Collier’s Dying Child. Farmer. , 19 
Where Man Should Die. Anonymous. 19 
Red Riding Hood. J. G. Whittier . . . 2C 
The Arab’s Farewell to his Steed. 

Mrs. Norton 20 

The Futility of Fame. H. K. White. . 21 
Somebody’s Darling. “ War Lyrics of 
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Roll-Call. N. P. Shephert 22 

When the Lamp is Shattered. Percy 

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Ring out Wild Bells. Tennyson 23 

The Downfall of Poland. Campbell.'. 23 
Elegy Written in a Country Church- 

Yard. Gray 24 

The Weaver 2S 

The Memory of the Dead. Anony- 
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The Reconciliation. John Banim .... 26 
The Bells of Shaudon. Father Prout. . 27 

Look Aloft. J . Lawrence 27 

Curfew must not Ring To-Night. 

Anonymous 28 

Persevere. Brougham 29 

The Baron’s Last Banquet. A. G. 

Greene 29 

The Inquiry. Charles Mackay 30 

The Relief of Lucknow. Robt. Lowell. 31 

The Water-Mill. D. G. Mitchell 31 

Dying Californian 32 

Bingen on the Rhine. Mrs. Norton.. 33 

Beautiful Snow 34 

The Charge of the Light Brigade. 

Tennyson 35 

Tne Dying Soldier 35 

Jim Bludso. John Hay 35 

Somebody’s Mother 36 

I’d oifer 'Thee this Hand of Mine 36 

The Bridge 37 

The Polish Boy. Ann S. Stephens. ... 37 
Why should the Spirit of Mortals be 

Proud - 38 

Betsy Destroys the Paper. D. R, 

Locke 39 

There’s None like a Mother if ever so 

Poor. . 41 

The Song of the Sword. Anonymous. 42 
The Mistletoe Bough. Anonymous.. 42 

The Old Arm Chair 43 

The Village Blacksmith 43 

Which Shall it be ? Anonymous 43 

The Death of the Warrior King. Chas. 

Swan 44 

Found Dead. Albert Leighton 44 

Little Will. Anonymous 45 

In School Days. J. G. Whittier 47 

Unknown Dead. L. D. M 47 

Bernardo del Carpio. Mrs. Hemans.. 48 


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CONTENTS OF NO. d. 
Page 

«he EdgftPA Poe..... 8 


IhelinrningPrairie, AliceCarey...., B 

Guilty or I^ot Guilty 6 

The Death-bed. Thomas Hood 6 

The Seminole’s Reply. G. W. Patten. 7 
The Main Txnick; or, A Leap for Life. 

Colton 7 

Civil War. Anonymous 7 

Antony’s Address to the Romans. 

Shakspeare 8 

The Palmetto and the Pine. Virginia 

L. French 10 

The Fate of Yirg^la. T. B. Macau- 
lay 12 

Guard thine Action^ Sallle Ada 

Vance 13 

One Glass More.. 13 

■William Tell 13 

Damon to the Syracusans. John 

Banim 14 

Srln’s Flag. Rev . Abram J. Ryan .... 14 
^The Irish Brigade” at Fontenoy. 

Bartholomew Dowling 16 

Ehylock to Antonio. Shakspeare..... 16 

Maud Muller. J. G. Whittier.., 16 

The Gladiator. J. A. Jones. 18 
Good-Night. Myles O’Reilly.,.,,,,.. 19 

From India. W. O. Bennett 19 

The Soldier’s Pardon. Jas. Smith... 20 

The Whistler, R. Storer 21 

Antony and Cleopatra, Gen, Lytle... 22 
The Doorstep. E. C. Stedmtm. 22 
Sill Mason’s Ride. F. Bret Harte.... 23 
Oonsckmoe and Future Judgment.... 23 
Ihe Purest Pearl. u*„. 24 


Joe, Alice Robbins,.,, 

The Dying Brigand 

John Maynard. Horatio Alger, Jr. . , . 
The Galley Slave. Henry Abbey .... 
Claude Melnotte’s Apology, Lord 

Lytton 

Catiline’s Last Harangue to his Army, 

Croly 

Seven Ages of Man. Shakspeare 

The Blacksmith’s Story. Frank Olive 
Drafted. Mrs. H, L. Bostwick.... . . . 

You Put no Flowers on my Papa's 
Grave. C. E. L. Holmes. ........ 

The Atheist. Wm. Knox 

Burial of Sir John Moore. Chas. 

Wolfe 

Twenty Years Ago 
The Rainbow.. 

A Wanderer’s Musings. By Wm. Geo* 

ghegan 

Scott and the Veteran. Bayard Tay- 
lor 

Damon and Pythias ; or. True Friend- 
ship. William Peter 

Kit Carson’s Ride. Joaquin Miller,. 
By the Shore of tho River, O, P. 

Cranch 

Excelsior. H. Tv. Longfellow. ....... 

The Two Anchors. R. H. Stoddard. . 
Under the Lamplight. Annlo B. 

Blount 

Bratus over the Dead Lncretia. J. 

H, Payne... 

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Loobinvar*8 Ride 


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Contents of No. 21. ' 


PAGE 


Half-way Doin’s. Irwin Russell — 3 
The Lady or the Tiger. Mayor Jo- 
seph Kirkland in the Century. . . 5 

Confidential.^ k 6 

St. Jonathan 6 

Shinbones Becomes an Umpire. W. 

J. Henderson 7 

Uncle Ike’s Roosters. Aaron W. 

Fredericks 8 

How “ Old Mo«e ” Counted Eggs. .. 9 
Trouble in the Choir. A. T. Wor- 
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Who Makes the Soil? 12 

That Gentleman from Boston Town 

Joquin Miller 13 

A Change of Views. Will Carey. . . 14 

Tht' Story of Elizur. F. A. S 15 

Robin Hood and the Abbot. John 

Brook 16 

Two Bootblacks 17 

A Reminiscence 18 


Uncle CufT Rises “Fur to ter 
'Splain.” William Longfellow 

Haynie 18 

The Canine Question. Al ex. Sw eet 
The Setting Sachem w 

Asking the Gov’nor • 

The April Face. ThomasruNelsofi- ^ 

Page ^ 

Guilty, of Course. Geo. Waldo.'; 

The Mosquito • 24 

Ode to the Full Moon. Allen Kelly 24 
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A Nesro's Account of the Prodigal 

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Don't Shpoil Dot Leedle Fun. Emile 

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Who Wo'men. Marry 

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The Druggist’s Vengeance 

The Emancipation of Man 

The Wickedest Man in Memphis. 

Alex. J. Brown 

The Knights of the Road 

Heinz Von Stein. Charles G. Le- 

land 

Chairley Burke’s in Town." James 

Whitcomb Riley 

The Wife’s Strategy 

Precepts at Parting. Irwin Russell 
Advice to a Young Man. R. J. Bur- 
dette 

The Chap that’s Been Over to Lun- 

non 

Noodleberry as a Neighbor. W. H. 

Ellis 

How' We Tried to Whip the Teacher. 

Eugene J. Hall 

Der Spider und der Fly. Charles 

Follen Adams 

Katrina's Visit to New York. Alex. 

T. Brown 

Th?s^!-Tjirkish Bath. By a Young 

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Oirr Boarding-House Thanksgiving 
Managing a Mule. Irwin Russell.. . 
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